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fHE    EXPOSITOR'S   BIBT  1 


EDITED   BY   THE    REV. 

W.     ROBERTSON     NrrOLL,    M.A.,    ^  ^   n 

Editor  of  "  The  Expositor'' 


THE     BOOK     OF     PROVERBS, 


PY 

r      II  O  K  i  vj  .N      M  .  A 


NEW    YORK: 
ARMSTRONG     AND     ^^  >^^ 
51     EAST    TENTH    STREET 

(NEAR    BROADWAY). 
189I. 


THE   EXPOSITOR'S   BIBLE. 

Edited  by  the    Rev.  W.  ROBERTSON  NICOLL,  M.A.,  LL.D. 
Croivn  %vo^  cloth. 


Colossians. 

By  A.  Maclaren,  D.D. 

St.  Mark. 

By  Ven-  Rev.  the  Dean  of  Armagh 

Genesis. 

By  Prof.  Makcus  Dods,  D.D. 


First  Series,  1887— 88. 
1  Samuel. 


Galatians. 

By  Prof.  G.  G.  Findlay,  B.A 

The  Pastoral  Epistles. 

By  Rev.  A.  Plummer,  D.D. 

Isaiah  i.— xxxix. 

By  G.  A.  S.MiTH,  M.A.     Vol. 


By  Prof.   W.   G.  Elaikie,  D.D. 

2  Samuel. 

By  the  same  Author. 

Hebrews, 

By  Principal  T.C.  Edwards,  D.D. 

Second  Series,  1888—89. 

i    The  Book  of  Revelation. 

i  By  Prof.  W.  Mili.ican,  D.D. 

I   1  Corinthians. 

By  Prof.  Marcus  Dods,  D.D. 
i   The  Epistles  of  St.  John. 

'•  ByRt.  Rev.W.  Alexander,D.D. 


Third  Series,  1889—90. 
Judges  and  Ruth.  St.  Matthew. 

By  Rev.  R.  A.  Watson,  Rl.A. 

Jeremiah. 

By  Rev.  C.  J.  Ball,  M.A. 

Isaiah  xi..— i.xvi. 

By  G.  A.  Smith,  M.A,     Vol.  II 


By  Rev.  J.  Monro  Gibson,  D.D. 
Exodus. 

By  Very  Rev.  the  Dean  of  Arm."gh. 

St.  Luke..; 

By  Rev!  H.  Burton,  B.A. 


Ecclesiastes. 

By  Rev.  Samuel  Cox,  D.D. 

St.  James  and  St.  Jude. 
By  Rev.  A.  Plummer,  D.D. 

Proverbs. 

By  Rev.  R.  F.  Horton,  M.A 
New  York 


Fourth  Series,  1890—91. 
Leviticus. 


By  Rev.  S.  H.  Kellogg,  D.D. 

The  Gospel  of  St.  John. 

By  Prof.  M.  Dods,  D.D.    Vol.  I. 

The  Acts  of  the  Apostles. 

By  Rev.  Prof.  G.  T.  Stokes,  D.D. 


C.  ARMSTRONG  AND   SON, 


TIIK 


BOOK    OF     PROVERBS 


R.     F.     HORTON,     M.A 

Hampstcaci  ; 


l.ATE   FELLOW  OF   NEW   COLLEGE,   OXFORD. 


<r.f  V  01  Vur-f^^ 


n5* 


NEW    YORK: 

A.    C.    ARMSTRONG    AND    SON, 
51    EAST    TENTH    STREET 

(near    BROADWAY). 
189I. 


"  Shrewd  remarks 
Of  moral  prudence,  clothed  in  images 
Lively  and  beautiful." 

Wordsworth. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 
INTRODUCTION  ........  I 

L 

THE    BEGINNING    OV    WISDOM     ......  9 

11. 

WISDOM    AS    THE    GUIDE    OF    CONDUCT  .  .  .  ^4 

III. 

THE    EARIHLY    REWARDS    OF    WISDOM  -37 

IV. 
EDUCATION  :    THE    CHILD's    THOUGHT    OF    THE    PARENT  .        52 


THE    WAYS    AND    ISSUES    OF    SIN  .  .  .  .  •       ^5 

VI. 

CERTAIN    EXAMPLES    OF    THE    BINDING    CHARACTER   OF    OUR 

OWN    ACTIONS  .......       79 


vi  CONTENTS. 

VII. 

PAGE 

REALISM    IX    MORAL    TEACHING  .  .  .  .  .       92 

VIII. 


THE    FIRST-BORN    OF    THE    CREATOR 


.     106 


IX. 

TWO    VOICES    IN    THE    HIGH    PLACES    OF    THE    CITY        .  .122 

X. 

WEALTH  ...  a 13s 

XI. 

GOODNESS        .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .     149 

XII. 

THE    TONGUE  .  .  .  .  .-  .  .  -     ^^^ 

XIII. 

PRIDE    AND    HUMILITY      .  .  .  ■  -179 

XIV. 

THE    INWARD    UNAPPROACHABLE    LIFE         .  .  .  .    I9I 

XV. 

A    PASSIONATE    DISPOSITION       ......    2O3 

XVI. 

A   JUST    BALANCE   .  .  .  .  .  •  •  '215 


CONTENTS.  vii 

XVII. 

PACE 

FRIENDSHIP.  ........    227 

XVIII. 

THE    EVIL    OF    ISOLATION 239 

XIX. 

HUMAN    FREEDOM  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  -250 

XX. 

IDLENESS 262 

XXI. 

WINE 275 

XXII. 

THE  TREATMENT  OF  THE  POOR    .....  288 

XXIII. 

EDUCATION  :     THE    PARENt's   THOUGHT    OF    THE   CHILD  .    303 

XXIV. 

FORGIVING 314 

XXV. 

THE    KING       .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  '32  5 

XXVI. 

THE    FOOL       .........    337 


viii  CONTENTS. 


XXVII. 

PAGE 
LIVING    DAY    BY    DAY 350 

XXVIII. 

AN    ASPECT    OF   ATONEMENT 362 

XXIX. 

THE    NEED    OF    REVELATION      .  .  .  .  .  '375 

XXX. 

THE    WORDS    OF    AGUR 386 

XXXI. 

A    GOOD    WOMAN      .  .  .  .  .  .  .      "       .    396 

INDEX    OF    PASSAGES  .  .  .  ,  .  .  .    4T I 

GENERAL    INDEX     '.  .  ,  .  ...  .    416 


INTRODUCTION. 

IN  attempting  to  make  the  book  of  Proverbs  a  sub- 
ject of  Expository  Lectures  and  practical  sermons 
it  has  been  necessary  to  treat  the  book  as  a  uniform 
composition,  following,  chapter  by  chapter,  the  order 
which  the  compiler  has  adopted,  and  bringing  the 
scattered  sentences  together  under  subjects  which  are 
suggested  by  certain  more  striking  points  in  the 
successive  chapters.  By  this  method  the  great  bulk  of 
the  matter  contained  in  the  book  is  brought  under 
review,  either  in  the  way  of  exposition  or  in  the  way 
of  quotation  and  allusion,  though  even  in  this  method 
many  smaller  sayings  slip  through  the  expositor's 
meshes.  But  the  grave  defect  of  the  method  which  is 
thus  employed  is  that  it  completely  obliterates  those 
interesting  marks,  discernible  on  the  very  surface  of 
the  book,  of  the  origin  and  the  compilation  of  the 
separate  parts.  This  defect  the  reader  can  best  supply 
by  turning  to  Professor  Cheyne's  scholarly  work  "  Job 
and  Solomon  ;  or.  The  Wisdom  of  the  Old  Testament  ;  " 
but  for  those  who  have  not  time  or  opportunity  to  refer 
to  any  book  besides  the  one  which  is  in  their  hands,  a 
brief  Introduction  to  the  following  Lectures  may  not  be 
unwelcome. 

The    Jewish    tradition    ascribed    the    Proverbs,    or 
Sayings  of  the  Wise,  to  Solomon,  just  as  it  ascribed 

I 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


the  Psalms,  or  inspired  lyrics  of  the  poets,  to  King 
David,  and  we  may  add,  just  as  it  ascribed  all  the  gradual 
accretions  and  developments  of  the  Law  to  Moses. 
But  even  a  very  uncritical  reader  will  observe  that  the 
book  of  Proverbs  as  we  have  it  is  not  the  work  of  a 
single  hand ;  and  a  critical  inquiry  into  the  language 
and  style  of  the  several  parts,  and  also  into  the  social 
and  political  conditions  which  are  implied  by  them,  has 
led  scholars  to  the  conclusion  that,  at  the  most,  a 
certain  number  of  Solomon's  wise  sayings  are  included 
in  the  collection,  but  that  he  did  not  in  any  sen^e 
compose  the  book.  In  fact,  the  statement  in  I  Kings 
iv.  32,  "He  spake  three  thousand  proverbs,"  implies 
that  his  utterances  were  recorded  by  others,  and  not 
written  down  by  himself,  and  the  heading  to  chap.  xxv. 
of  our  book  suggests  that  the  "  men  of  Hezekiah " 
collected  the  reputed  sayings  of  Solomon  from  several 
sources,  one  of  those  sources  being  the  collection  con- 
tained in  the  previous  chapters.^ 

The  opening  words,  then,  of  the  book — "  The 
Proverbs  of  Solomon  the  son  of  David,  King  of  Israel  " 
— are  not  to  be  taken  as  an  assertion  that  all  which 
follows  flowed  from  Solomon's  pen,  but  rather  as  a 
general  description  and  key-note  of  the  subject  of  the 
treatise.  It  is  as  if  the  compiler  wished  to  say,  '  This 
is  a  compendiur.i  of  those  wise  sayings  current  among 
us,  the  model  and  type  of  which  may  be  found  in  the 
proverbs  attributed  to  the  wisest  of  men,  King  Solomon.' 
That  this  is  the  way  in  which  we  must  understand  the 

'  Cf.  xxv.  24  (xxi.  9),  xxvi.  22  (xviii.  8),  xxvii.  12  (xxii.  3),  xxvii. 
13  (xx.  16),  xxvi.  13  (xxii.  13),  xxvi.  15  (xix.  24),  xxviii.  6  (xix.  i^, 
xxviii.  I9(xii.  ii),  xxix.  13  (xxii.  2)  ;  to  which  add  xxvii.  15  (xix.  13), 
xxvii.  21  (xvii.  3),  xxix,  22  (xv.  18). 


INTRODUCTION. 


title  becomes  plain  when  we  find  contained  in  the  book 
a  passage  described  as  "  the  sayings  of  the  wise  "  (xxiv. 
23-34),  ^  chapter  distinctly  entitled  "  The  Words  of 
Agur/'  and  another  paragraph  headed  ^' The  Words  of 
King  Lemuel." 

Leaving  aside  the  traditional  view  of  the  authorship, 
which  the  book  itself  shows  to  be  misleading,  the  con- 
tents ma}"  be  briefly  delineated  and  characterized. 

The  main  body  of  Proverbs  is  the  collection  which 
begins  at  chap,  x.,  "  The  Proverbs  of  Solomon,"  and 
ends  at  xxii.  16.  This  collection  has  certain  distinct 
features  which  mark  it  off  from  all  that  precedes  and 
from  all  that  follows.  It  is,  strictly  speaking,  a  collection 
of  proverbs,  that  is  of  brief,  pointed  sayings, — sometimes 
containing  a  similitude,  but  more  generally  consisting 
of  a  single  antithetical  moral  sentiment, — such  as  spring 
into  existence  and  pass  current  in  every  society  of  men. 
All  these  proverbs  are  identical  in  form  :  each  is 
expressed  in  a  distich  ;  the  apparent  exception  in  xix.  7 
is  to  be  explained  by  the  obvious  fact  that  the  third 
clause  is  the  mutilated  fragment  of  another  proverb, 
which  in  the  LXX.  appears  complete  :  6  ttoXXcl  KaKoirotcov 
jeXeatovpyel  KaKiav,  09  5e  ipeOl^eo  Xoyov^;  ov  aodOrjaerai. 
As  the  form  is  the  same  in  all,  so  the  general  drift  of 
their  teaching  is  quite  uniform ;  the  morality  inculcated 
is  of  no  very  lofty  type  ;  the  motives  for  right  conduct 
are  mainly  prudential ;  there  is  no  sense  of  mystery  or 
wonder,  no  tendency  to  speculation  or  doubt;  "Be 
good,  and  you  will  prosper;  be  wicked,  and  you  will 
suffer,"  is  the  sum  of  the  whole.  A  few  scattered  pre- 
cepts occur  which  seem  to  touch  a  higher  level  and  to 
breathe  a  more  spiritual  air ;  and  it  is  possible,  as  has 
been  suggested,  that  these  were  added  by  the  author  of 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


chaps,  i.-ix.,  when  he  revised  and  pubHshed  the  compila- 
tion. Such  a  sentiment  as  xiv.  34  well  accords  with 
the  utterance  of  Wisdom  in  viii.  15,  16.  And  the  series 
of  proverbs  which  are  grouped  on  the  principle  of  their 
all  containing  the  name  of  Jahveh,  xv.  33-xvi.  7  (cf. 
xvi.  20,  33)  seems  to  be  closely  linked  with  the 
opening  chapters  of  the  book.  Assuming  the  proverbs 
of  this  collection  to  spring  from  the  same  period,  and  to 
reflect  the  social  conditions  which  then  prevailed,  we 
should  say  that  it  points  to  a  time  of  comparative 
simplicity  and  purity,  when  the  main  industry  was  that 
of  tilling  the  soil,  when  the  sayings  of  wise  people  were 
valued  by  an  unsophisticated  community,  when  the 
family  life  was  pure,  the  wife  honoured  (xii.  4 ;  xviii.  22  ; 
xix.  14),  and  parental  authority  maintained,  and  when 
the  king  was  still  worthy  of  respect,  the  immediate 
and  obedient  instrument  of  the  Divine  government 
(xxi.  i).  The  whole  collection  seems  to  date  from  the 
earlier  and  happier  times  of  the  monarchy. 

To  this  collection  is  added  an  appendix  (xxii.  17- 
xxiv.  22),  which  opens  with  an  exhortation  addressed 
by  the  teacher  to  his  pupil.  The  literary  form  of  this 
appendix  falls  far  behind  the  style  of  the  main 
collection.  The  terse  and  compact  distich  occurs 
rarely ;  most  of  the  sayings  are  more  cumbrous  and 
elaborate,  and  in  one  case  there  is  a  brief  didactic  poem 
carried  through  several  verses  (xxiii.  29-35).  As  the 
style  of  composition  shows  a  decline,  so  the  general 
conditions  which  form  the  background  of  the  sayings 
are  less  happy.  They  seem  to  indicate  a  time  of  grow- 
ing luxury  ;  gluttony  and  drunkenness  are  the  subjects 
of  strong  invective.  It  appears  that  the  poor  are 
oppressed   by   the   rich  (xxii.  22),  and  justice  is  not 


INTRODUCTION. 


rightly  administered,  so  that  the  innocent  are  carried 
away  into  confinement  (xxiv.  ii,  12).  There  is  poli- 
tical unrest,  too,  and  the  young  have  to  be  cautioned 
against  the  revolutionary  or  anarchical  spirit  (xxiv.  2 1 ). 
We  are  evidently  brought  down  to  a  later  period  in 
Israel's  melancholy  history. 

Another  brief  appendix  follows  (xxiv.  23-34),  in 
which  the  distich  form  almost  entirely  disappears  ;  it 
is  remarkable  as  containing  a  little  picture  (30-34), 
which,  like  the  much  longer  passage  in  vii.  6-27,  is 
presented  as  the  personal  observation  of  the  writer. 

We  now  pass  on  to  an  entirely  new  collection, 
ch.  xxv.-xxix.,  which  was  made,  we  are  told,  in  the 
literary  circle  at  the  court  of  Hezekiah,  two  hundred 
and  fifty  years  or  thereabouts  after  the  time  of  Solomon. 
In  this  collection  there  is  no  uniformity  of  structure 
such  as  distinguished  the  proverbs  of  the  first  collection. 
Some  distichs  occur,  but  as  often  as  not  the  proverb 
is  drawn  out  into  three,  four,  and  in  one  case  (xxv.  6,  7) 
five  clauses ;  xxvii.  23-27  forms  a  brief  connected  ex- 
hortation, which  is  a  considerable  departure  from  the 
simple  structure  of  the  masJial,  or  proverb.  The  social 
condition  reflected  in  these  chapters  is  not  very  attrac- 
tive ;  it  is  clear  that  the  people  have  had  experience 
of  a  bad  ruler  (xxix.  2)  ;  we  seem  to  have  hints  of  the 
many  troubled  experiences  through  which  the  monarchy 
of  Israel  passed — the  divided  rule,  the  injustice,  the 
incapacity,  the  oppression  (xxviii.  2,  3,  12,  15,  16,  28). 
There  is  one  proverb  which  particularly  recalls  the 
age  of  Hezekiah,  when  the  doom  of  the  exile  was  already 
being  proclaimed  by  the  prophets  :  "  As  a  bird  that 
wandereth  from  her  nest,  so  is  a  man  that  wandereth 
from  his  place  "  (xxvii.  8).     And  it  is  perhaps  charac- 


THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 


teristic  of  that  troubled  time,  when  the  spiritual  life  was 
to  be  deepened  by  the  experience  of  material  suffering 
and  national  disaster,  that  this  collection  contains  a 
proverb  which  might  be  almost  the  key-note  of  the  New 
Testament  morality  (xxv.  21,  22). 

The  book  closes  with  three  quite  distinct  passages, 
which  can  only  be  regarded  as  appendices.  According 
to  one  interpretation  of  the  very  difficult  words  ^which 
stand  at  the  head  of  chaps,  xxx.  and  xxxi.,  these  para- 
graphs would  come  from  a  foreign  source  ;  it  has  been 
thought  that  the  word  translated  "  oracle"  might  be  the 
name  of  the  country  mentioned  in  Gen.  xxv.  14,  Massa. 
But  whether  Jakeh  and  King  Lemuel  were  natives  of 
this  shadowy  land  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  the  whole 
tone  and  drift  of  these  two  sections  are  ahen  to  the 
general  spirit  of  the  book.  There  is  something  enig- 
matical in  their  st3^1e  and  artificial  in  their  form,  which 
would  suggest  a  very  late  period  in  Israel's  literary 
history.  And  the  closing  passage,  which  describes  the 
virtuous  woman,  is  distinguished  by  being  an  alpha- 
betical acrostic,  the  verses  beginning  with  the  successive 
letters  of  the  Hebrew  alphabet,  a  kind  of  composition 
which  points  to  the  dawn  of  Rabbinical  methods  in 
literature.  It  is  impossible  to  say  when  or  how  these 
curious  and  interesting  additions  were  made  to  our 
book,  but  scholars  have  generally  recognized  them  as 
the  product  of  the  exile,  if  not  the  post-exile,  period. 

Now,  the  two  collections  which  have  been  described, 
with  their  several  appendices,  were  at  some  favourable 
point  in  religious  history,  possibly  in  those  happy  days 
of  Josiah  when  the  Deuteronomic  Law  was  newly 
promulgated  to  the  joyful  nation,  brought  together,  and, 
as  we  should  say  now,  edited,  with  an  original  intro- 


INTRODUCTION. 


duction  by  an  author  who,  unknown  to  us  by  name, 
is  among  the  greatest  and  noblest  of  Biblical  writers. 
The  first  nine  chapters  of  the  book,  which  form  the 
introduction  to  the  whole,  strike  a  far  higher  note, 
appeal  to  nobler  conceptions,  and  are  couched  in  a  much 
loftier  style  than  the  book  itself.  The  writer  bases  his 
moral  teaching  on  Divine  authority  rather  than  on  the 
utilitarian  basis  which  prevails  in  most  of  the  proverbs. 
Writing  in  a  time  when  the  temptations  to  a  lawless 
and  sensual  life  were  strong,  appealing  to  the  wealthier 
and  more  cultured  youth  of  the  nation,  he  proceeds  in 
sweet  and  earnest  discourse  to  woo  his  readers  from 
the  paths  of  vice  into  the  Temple  of  Wisdom  and  Virtue. 
His  method  of  contrasting  the  ''  two  ways,"  and  exhort- 
ing men  to  shun  the  one  and  choose  the  other,  con- 
stantly reminds  us  of  the  similar  appeals  in  the  Book 
of  Deuteronomy ;  but  the  touch  is  more  graphic  and  more 
vivid ;  the  gifts  of  the  poet  are  employed  in  depicting 
the  seven-pillared  House  of  Wisdom  and  the  deadly 
ways  of  Folly ;  and  in  the  wonderful  passage  which 
introduces  Wisdom  appeahng  to  the  sons  of  men,  on  the 
ground  of  the  part  which  she  plays  in  the  Creation  and  by 
the  throne  of  God,  we  recognize  the  voice  of  a  prophet — 
a  prophet,  too,  who  holds  one  of  the  highest  places  in 
the  line  of  those  who  foretold  the  coming  of  our  Lord. 

Impossible  as  it  has  been  in  the  Lectures  to  bring 
out  the  history  and  structure  of  the  book,  it  will  greatly 
help  the  reader  to  bear  in  mind  what  has  just  been 
said ;  he  will  thus  be  prepared  for  the  striking  contrast 
between  the  glowing  beauty  of  the  introduction  and 
the  somewhat  frigid  precepts  which  occur  so  frequently 
among  the  Proverbs  themselves ;  he  will  be  able  to 
appreciate   more   fully  the   point  which   is  from  time 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


to  time  brought  into  relief,  that  much  of  the  teaching 
contained  in  the  book  is  crude  and  imperfect,  of  value 
for  us  only  when  it  has  been  brought  to  the  standard 
of  our  Lord's  spirit,  corrected  by  His  love  and  wisdom, 
or  infused  with  His  Divine  life.  And  especially  as  the 
reader  approaches  those  strange  chapters  '*  The  Sayings 
of  Agur  "  and  "  The  Sayings  of  King  Lemuel "  he  will 
be  glad  to  remind  himself  of  the  somewhat  loose  relation 
in  which  they  stand  to  the  main  body  of  the  work. 

In  few  parts  of  the  Scripture  is  there  more  need  than 
in  this  of  the  ever-present  Spirit  to  interpret  and  apply 
the  written  word,  to  discriminate  and  assort,  to  arrange 
and  to  combine,  the  varied  utterances  of  the  ages. 
Nowhere  is  it  more  necessary  to  distinguish  between 
the  inspired  speech,  which  comes  to  the  mind  of  prophet 
or  poet  as  a  direct  oracle  of  God,  and  the  speech 
which  is  the  product  of  human  wisdom,  human  obser- 
vation, and  human  common  sense,  and  is  only  in  that 
secondary  sense  inspired.  In  the  book  of  Proverbs 
there  is  much  which  is  recorded  for  us  by  the  wisdom 
of  God,  not  because  it  is  the  expression  of  God's 
wisdom,  but  distinctly  because  it  is  the  expression 
of  man's  wisdom  ;  and  among  the  lessons  of  the  book 
is  the  sense  of  limitation  and  incompleteness  which 
human  wisdom  leaves  upon  the  mind. 

But  under  the  direction  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the 
reader  may  not  only  learn  from  the  Proverbs  much 
practical  counsel  for  the  common  duties  of  life ;  he  may 
have,  from  time  to  time,  rare  and  wonderful  glimpses 
into  the  heights  and  depths  of  God. 


THE  BEGINNING   OF  WISDOM. 

"The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  knowledge." — Prov.  i.  7. 

"The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom  : 
And  the  knowledge  of  the  Holy  One  is  understanding." — Prov. 
ix.  10. 

{Cf.  Eccles.  i.  14,  "To  fear  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom  : 
and  it  was  created  with  the  faithful  in  the  womb  ;  "  also  Ps.  cxi.  10.) 

THE  book  of  Proverbs  belongs  to  a  group  of  works 
in  the  Hebrew  literature  the  subject  of  which 
is  Wisdom.  It  is  probably  the  earliest  of  them  all, 
and  may  be  regarded  as  the  stem,  of  which  they  are 
the  branches.  Without  attempting  to  determine  the 
relative  ages  of  these  compositions,  the  ordinary  reader 
can  see  the  points  of  contact  between  Proverbs  and 
Ecclesiastes,  and  a  little  careful  study  reveals  that  the 
book  of  Job,  though  fuller  and  richer  in  every  respect, 
belongs  to  the  same  order.  Outside  the  canon  of 
Holy  Scripture  we  possess  two  works  which  avowedly 
owe  their  suggestion  and  inspiration  to  our  book,  viz. 
"  The  Wisdom  of  Jesus  the  Son  of  Sirach,"  commonly 
called  Ecclesiasticus,  a  genuinely  Hebrew  product,  and 
"The  Wisdom  of  Solomon,"  commonly  called  the  Book 
of  Wisdom,  of  much  later  origin,  and  exhibiting  that 
fusion  of  Hebrew  religious  conceptions  with  Greek 
speculation  which  prevailed  in  the  Jewish  schools  of 
Alexandria. 


THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 


Now,  the  question  at  once  occurs,  What  are  we  to 
understand  by  the  Wisdom  which  gives  a  subject  and 
a  title  to  this  extensive  field  of  literature  ?  and  in  what 
relation  does  it  stand  to  the  Law  and  the  Prophets,  which 
form  the  great  bulk  of  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures  ? 

Broadly  speaking,  the  Wisdom  of  the  Hebrews 
covers  the  whole  domain  of  what  we  should  call  Science 
and  Philosophy.  It  is  the  consistent  effort  of  the 
human  mind  to  know,  to  understand,  and  to  explain  all 
that  exists.  It  is,  to  use  the  modern  phrase,  the  search 
for  truth.  The  ^*  wdse  men  "  were  not,  like  Moses  and 
the  Prophets,  inspired  legislators  and  heralds  of  God's 
immediate  messages  to  mankind  ;  but  rather,  like  the 
wise  men  among  the  earlier  Greeks,  Thales,  Solon, 
Anaximenes,  or  like  the  Sophists  among  the  later 
Greeks,  Socrates  and  his  successors,  they  brought  all 
their  faculties  to  bear  in  observing  the  facts  of  the 
world  and  of  hfe,  and  in  seeking  to  interpret  them,  and 
then  in  the  public  streets  or  in  appointed  schools 
endeavoured  to  communicate  their  knowledge  to  the 
young.  Nothing  was  too  high  for  their  inquiry  :  *'  That 
which  is  is  far  off,  and  exceeding  deep  ;  who  can  find  it 
out  ?  "  ^  yet  they  tried  to  discover  and  to  explain  that 
which  is.  Nothing  was  too  lowly  for  their  attention  ; 
wisdom  "reaches  from  one  end  to  another  mightily, 
and  sweetly  orders  all  things."  ^  Their  purpose  finds 
expression  in  the  words  of  Ecclesiastes,  '*  I  turned 
about,  and  my  heart  was  set  to  know  and  to  search 
out,  and  to  seek  wisdom  and  the  reason  of  things."  ^ 

But  by  Wisdom  is  meant  not  merely  the  search,  but 
also  the  discovery;  not  merely  a  desire  to  know,  but 

'  Eccl.  vii.  24.  2  Wisdom  viii.  i.  ^  Eccl.  vii.  25. 


i.  7.]  THE  BEGINNING   OF  WISDOM.  Ii 

also  a  certain  body  of  conceptions  ascertained  and 
sufficiently  formulated.  To  the  Hebrew  mind  it  would 
have  seemed  meaningless  to  assert  that  Agnosticism 
was  wisdom.  It  was  saved  from  this  paradoxical  con- 
clusion by  its  firmly  rooted  faith  in  God.  Mystery 
might  hang  over  the  details,  but  one  thing  was  plain  : 
the  whole  universe  was  an  intelhgent  plan  of  God  ;  the 
mind  might  be  baffled  in  understanding  His  ways,  but 
that  all  existence  is  of  His  choosing  and  His  ordering 
was  taken  as  the  axiom  with  which  all  thought  must 
start.  Thus  there  is  a  unity  in  the  Hebrew  Wisdom ; 
the  unity  is  found  in  the  thought  of  the  Creator ;  all 
the  facts  of  the  physical  world,  all  the  problems  of 
human  life,  are  referred  to  His  mind  ;  objective  Wisdom 
is  God's  Being,  which  includes  in  its  circle  everything ; 
and  subjective  wisdom,  wisdom  in  the  human  mind, 
consists  in  becoming  acquainted  with  His  Being  and 
all  that  is  contained  in  it,  and  meanwhile  in  constantly 
admitting  that  He  is,  and  yielding  to  Him  the  rightful 
place  in  our  thought. 

But  while  Wisdom  embraces  in  her  wide  survey  all 
things  in  heaven  and  in  earth,  there  is  one  part  of  the 
vast  field  which  makes  a  special  demand  upon  human 
interest.  The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man.  Very 
naturally  the  earliest  subject  to  occupy  human  thought 
was  human  life,  human  conduct,  human  society.  Or, 
to  say  the  same  thing  in  the  language  of  this  book, 
while  Wisdom  was  occupied  with  the  whole  creation, 
she  specially  rejoiced  in  the  habitable  earth,  and  her 
delight  was  with  the  sons  of  men. 

Theoretically  embracing  all  subjects  of  human  know- 
ledge and  reflection,  the  Wisdom  of  the  Hebrew  litera- 
ture practically  touches  but  little  on  what  wc  should 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


now  call  Science,  and  even  where  attention  was  turned 
to  the  facts  and  laws  of  the  material  world,  it  was 
mainly  in  order  to  borrow  similitudes  or  illustrations 
for  moral  and  religious  purposes.  King  Solomon 
"  spake  of  trees,  from  the  cedar  that  is  in  Lebanon  even 
unto  the  hyssop  that  springeth  out  of  the  wall :  he  spake 
also  of  beasts,  and  of  fowl,  and  of  creeping  things,  and 
of  fishes."^  But  the  Proverbs  which  have  actually 
come  down  to  us  under  his  name  refer  almost  exclu- 
sively to  principles  of  conduct  or  observation  of  life,  and 
seldom  remind  us  of  the  earth,  the  sea,  and  the  sky, 
except  as  the  dwelling-place  of  men,  the  house  covered 
with  paintings  for  his  delight  or  filled  with  imagery  for 
his  instruction. 

But  there  is  a  further  distinction  to  be  drawn,  and  in 
attempting  to  make  it  plain  we  may  determine  the 
place  of  the  Proverbs  in  the  general  scheme  of  the 
inspired  writings.  Human  life  is  a  sufficiently  large 
theme ;  it  includes  not  only  social  and  political  ques- 
tions, but  the  searchings  and  speculations  of  philosophy, 
the  truths  and  revelations  of  religion.  From  one  point 
of  view,  therefore,  wisdom  may  be  said  to  embrace  the 
Law  and  the  Prophets,  and  in  a  beautiful  passage  of 
Ecclesiasticus  ^   the  whole   covenant   of  Jehovah  with 

'   I   Kings  iv.  33. 

^  In  this  passage  Wisdom  is  represented  saying — 
"I  from  the  mouth    of   the    Highest  came  forth,  and   as  vapour   1 

veiled  the  earth  ; 
I  in  the  heights  pitched  my  tent,  my  throne  in  a  pillar  of  cloud  ; 
I  alone  circled  the  ring  of  heaven,  and  walked  in  the  depths  of 

abysses ; 
In  the  waves  of  the  sea,  and  in  all  the  earth,  and  in  every  people 

and  race  I  obtained  a  possession  ; 
With  all  these  I  sought  a  rest  (saying),  In  whose  inheritance  shall 

I  settle? 


i.7.]  THE  BEGINNING  OF  WISDOM.  13 

Israel  is  treated  as  an  emanation  of  wisdom  from  the 
mouth  of  the  Most  High.  Wisdom  was  the  inspiration 
of  those  who  shaped  the  law  and  built  the  Holy 
House,  of  those  who  ministered  in  the  courts  of  the 
Temple,  and  of  those  who  were  moved  by  the  Holy 
One  to  chide  the  faults  of  the  people,  to  call  them  to 
repentance,  to  denounce  the  doom  of  their  sin,  and 
proclaim  the  glad  promise  of  deliverance.  Again,  from 
this  large  point  of  view  Wisdom  could  be  regarded  as 
the  Divine  Philosophy,  the  system  of  thought  and  the 
body  of  beliefs  which  would  furnish  the  explanation  of 
life,  and  would  root  all  the  decisions  of  ethics  in  eternal 
principles  of  truth.  And  this  function  of  Wisdom  is 
presented  with  singular  beauty  and  power  in  the  eighth 
chapter  of  our  book,  where,  as  we  shall  see,  the  mouth 
of  Wisdom  shows  that  her  concern  with  men  is  derived 
from  her  relation  with  the  Creator  and  from  her  com- 
prehension of  His  great  architectural  design  in  the 
construction  of  the  world. 

Now,  the  wisdom  which  finds  expression  in  the  bulk 
of  the  Proverbs  must  be  clearly  distinguished  from 
wisdom  in  this  exalted  sense.  It  is  not  the  wisdom  of 
the  Law  and  the  Prophets ;  it  moves  in  a  much  lower 
plane.     It  is  not  the  wisdom  of  chap,  viii.,  a  philosophy 

Then  came  to  me  the  command  of  the  Creator  of  all ;  my  Creator 

pitched  my  tent ;  and  He  said, 
In  Jacob  pitch  thy  tent,  in  Israel  find  thine  inheritance. 
Before  the  world  was,  in  the  beginning  He  created  me,  and  while 

the  world  lasts  I  shall  not  fail  : 
In  the  holy  tent  before  Him  I  offered  service,  and  thus  in  Sion  I 

was  planted  ; 
In  the  beloved  city  He  likewise  made  me  rest,  and  in  Israel  is  my 

power  ; 
•     And  I  took  root  in  a  people  that  is  glorified,  in  a  portion  of  the  Lord 

His  inheritance," — Eccles.  xxiv.  3. 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


which  harmonizes  human  life  with  the  laws  of  nature 
by  constantly  connecting  both  with  God. 

The  wisdom  of  the  Proverbs  differs  from  the  wisdom 
of  the  Prophets  in  this,  that  it  is  derived  not  directly, 
but  mediately  from  God.  No  special  mind  is  directed 
to  shape  these  sayings  ;  they  grow  up  in  the  common 
mind  of  the  people,  and  they  derive  their  inspiration 
from  those  general  qualities  which  made  the  whole 
nation  in  the  midst  of  which  they  had  their  birth  an 
inspired  nation,  and  gave  to*  all  the  literature  of  the 
nation  a  peculiar  and  inimitable  tone.  The  wisdom  of 
the  Proverbs  differs,  too,  from  the  wisdom  of  these  intro- 
ductory chapters  in  much  the  same  way ;  it  is  a  dif- 
ference which  might  be  expressed  by  a  familiar  use 
of  words ;  it  is  a  distinction  between  Philosophy  and 
Proverbial  Philosophy,  a  distinction,  let  us  say,  between 
Divine  Philosophy  and  Proverbial  Philosophy. 

The  Proverbs  are  often  shrewd,  often  edifying,  some- 
times almost  evangelical  in  their  sharp  ethical  insight ; 
but  we  shall  constantly  be  reminded  that  they  do  not 
come  with  the  overbearing  authority  of  the  prophetic 
^'Thus  saith  the  Lord."  And  still  more  shall  we  be 
reminded  how  far  they  lag  behind  the  standard  of  life 
and  the  principles  of  conduct  which  are  presented  to  us 
in  Christ  Jesus. 

What  has  just  been  said  seems  to  be  a  necessary 
preliminary  to  the  study  of  the  Proverbs,  and  it  is  only 
by  bearing  it  in  mind  that  we  shall  be  able  to  appreciate 
the  difference  in  tone  between  the  nine  introductory 
chapters  and  the  main  body  of  the  book ;  nor  should 
we  venture,  perhaps,  apart  from  the  consideration  which 
has  been  urged  to  exercise  our  critical  sense  in  the 
study  of  particular  sayings,  and  to  insist  at  all  points 


i.7.]  THE  BEGINNING  OF  WISDOM.  15 


on  bringing  the  teaching  of  the  wise  men  of  old  to  the 
standard  and  test  of  Him  who  is  Himself  made  unto 
us  Wisdom. 

But  now  to  turn  to  our  text.  We  must  think  of 
wisdom  in  the  largest  possible  sense,  as  including  not 
only  ethics,  but  philosophy,  and  not  only  philosophy, 
but  religion  ;  yes,  and  as  embracing  in  her  vast  survey 
the  whole  field  of  natural  science,  when  it  is  said  that 
the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  zvisdom  ;  we  must 
think  of  knowledge  in  its  fullest  and  most  liberal  extent 
when  we  read  that  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning 
of  knowledge. 

In  this  pregnant  truth  we  may  distinguish  three  ideas  : 
firstf  fear,  or,  as  we  should  probably  say,  reverence,  is 
the  pre-requisite  of  all  scientific,  philosophical,  or  reli- 
gious truth ;  second,  no  real  knowledge  or  wisdom  can 
be  attained  which  does  not  start  with  the  recognition  of 
God ;  and  then,  thirdly,  the  expression  is  not  only 
"  the  fear  of  God,"  which  might  refer  only  to  the  Being 
that  is  presupposed  in  any  inteUigent  explanation  of 
phenomena,  but  the  "  fear  of  the  Lord,"  i.e.  of  Jahveh, 
the  self-existent  One,  who  has  revealed  Himself  in  a 
special  way  to  men  as  "  I  am  what  I  am  ;  "  and  it  is 
therefore  hinted  that  no  satisfactory  philosophy  of 
human  life  and  history  can  be  constructed  which  does 
not  build  upon  the  fact  of  revelation. 

We  may  proceed  to  dwell  upon  these  three  thoughts 
in  order. 

I.  Most  religious  people  are  willing  to  admit  that 
"  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  a  fountain  of  life,  to  depart 
from  the  snares  of  death."  ^     But  what  is  not  always 

*  Prov.  xiv.  27. 


1 6  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

observed  is  that  the  same  attitude  is  necessary  in  the 
intellectual  sphere.  And  yet  the  truth  may  be  illus- 
trated in  a  quarter  which  to  some  of  us  may  be  sur- 
prising. It  is  a  notable  fact  that  Modern  Science  had 
its  origin  in  two  deeply  religious  minds.  Bacon  and 
Descartes  were  both  stirred  to  their  investigation  of 
physical  facts  by  their  belief  in  the  Divine  Being  who 
was  behind  them.  To  mention  only  our  great  English 
thinker,  Bacon's  Novum  Organuni  is  the  most  reverent 
of  works,  and  no  one  ever  realized  more  keenly  than 
he  that,  as  Coleridge  used  to  say,  ^^  there  is  no  chance 
of  truth  at  the  goal  where  there  is  not  a  childlike  humility 
at  the  starting-point." 

It  is  sometimes  said  that  this  note  of  reverence  is 
wanting  in  the  great  scientific  investigators  of  our  day. 
So  far  as  this  is  true,  it  is  probable  that  their  conclu- 
sions will  be  vitiated,  and  we  are  often  impressed  by 
the  feeling  that  the  unmannerly  self-assertion  and  over- 
weening self-confidence  of  many  scientific  writers  augur 
ill  for  the  truth  of  their  assertions.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  greatest  men  of 
science  in  our  own,  as  in  all  other  ages,  are  distinguished 
by  a  singular  simplicity,  and  by  a  reverence  which 
communicates  itself  to  their  readers.  What  could  be 
more  reverent  than  Darwin's  way  of  studying  the  coral- 
insect  or  the  earth-worm  ?  He  bestowed  on  these 
humble  creatures  of  the  ocean  and  of  the  earth  the 
most  patient  and  loving  observation.  And  his  success 
in  understanding  and  explaining  them  was  in  proportion 
to  the  respect  which  he  showed  to  them.  The  coral- 
diver  has  no  reverence  for  the  insect ;  he  is  bent  only 
on  gain,  and  he  consequently  can  tell  us  nothing  of  the 
coral  reef  and  its  growth,     The  gardener  has  no  re- 


i.  7]  THE  BEGINNING  OF  JVISDOM.  17 

verence  for  the  worm ;  he  cuts  it  ruthlessly  with  his 
spade,  and  flings  it  carelessly  aside  ;  accordingly  he  is 
not  able  to  tell  us  of  its  lowly  ministries  and  of  the  part 
it  plays  in  the  fertilization  of  the  soil.  It  was  Darwin's 
reverence  which  proved  to  be  the  beginning  of  know- 
ledge in  these  departments  of  investigation  ;  and  if  it 
was  only  the  reverence  of  the  naturalist,  the  truth  is 
illustrated  all  the  better,  for  his  knowledge  of  the  unseen 
and  the  eternal  dwindled  away,  just  as  his  perception 
of  beauty  in  literature  and  art  declined,  in  proportion 
as  he  suffered  his  spirit  of  reverence  towards  these 
things  to  die. 

Xhe  gates  of  Knowledge  and  Wisdom  are  closed,  and 
they  are  opened  only  to  the  knock  of  Reverence.     With- 
out reverence,  it  is  true,  men  may  gain  what  is  called 
worldly  knowledge  and  worldly  wisdom;  but  these  are  far 
removed  from  truth,  and  experience  often  shows  us  how 
profoundly  ignorant  and  how  incurably  blind  pushing 
and  successful  people  are,  whose  knowledge  is  all  turned 
to  delusion,  and  whose  wisdom  shifts  round  into  folly, 
precisely  because  the  great  pre-requisite  was  wanting. 
The  seeker  after  real  knowledge  will  have  little  about 
him  which  suggests  worldly  success.     He  is  modest,  self- 
forgetful,  possibly  shy  ;  he  is  absorbed  in  a  disinterested 
pursuit,  for  he  has   seen  afar  the  high,  white  star  of 
Truth  ;  at  it  he  gazes,  to  it  he  aspires.     Things  which 
only  affect  him  personally  make  but  little  impression 
on  him  ;    things  which  affect  the  truth  move,  agitate, 
excite  him.     A  bright  spirit  is  on  ahead,  beckoning  to 
him.    The  colour  mounts  to  his  cheek,  the  nerves  thrill, 
and  his  soul  is  filled  with  rapture,  when  the  form  seems 
to  grow  clearer  and  a  step  is  gained  in   the  pursuit. 
When  a  discovery  is  made  he  almost  forgets  that  he 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


is  the  discoverer  ;  he  will  even  allow  the  credit  of  it  to 
pass  over  to  another,  for  he  would  rather  rejoice  in  the 
truth  itself  than  allow  his  joy  to  be  tinged  with  a 
personal  consideration. 

Yes,  this  modest,  self-forgetful,  reverent  mien  is 
the  first  condition  of  winning  Truth,  who  must  be 
approached  on  bended  knee,  and  recognized  with  a 
humble  and  a  prostrate  heart.  There  is  no  gainsaying 
the  fact  that  this  fear,  this  reverence,  is  the  beginning 
of  wisdom. 

2.  We  pass  now  to  an  assertion  bolder  than  the  last, 
that  tJiere  can  be  no  true  knowledge  or  wisdom  which 
does  not  start  from  the  recognition  of  God.  This  is  one 
of  those  contentions,  not  uncommon  in  the  Sacred 
Writings,  w^hich  appear  at  first  sight  to  be  arbitrary 
dogmas,  but  prove  on  closer  inquiry  to  be  the  authori- 
tative statements  of  reasoned  truth.  We  are  face  to 
face,  in  our  day,  with  an  avowedly  atheistic  philosophy. 
According  to  the  Scriptures,  an  atheistic  philosophy  is 
not  a  philosophy  at  all,  but  only  a  folly  :  "  The  fool  hath 
said  in  his  heart.  There  is  no  God."  We  have  thinkers 
among  us  who  deem  it  their  great  mission  to  get  rid  of 
the  very  idea  of  God,  as  one  which  stands  in  the  way  of 
spiritual,  social,  and  political  progress.  According  to 
the  Scriptures,  to  remove  the  idea  of  God  is  to  destroy 
the  key  of  knowledge  and  to  make  any  consistent 
scheme  of  thought  impossible.  Here  certainly  is  a 
clear  and  sharp  issue. 

Now,  if  this  universe  of  which  we  form  a  part  is  a 
thought  of  the  Divine  mind,  a  work  of  the  Divine  hand, 
a  scene  of  Divine  operations,  in  which  God  is  realizing, 
by  slow   degrees,  a   vast  spiritual  purpose,  it  is  self-  . 
evident  that  no  attempt  to  understand  the  universe  can 


i.7.]  THE  BEGINNING  OF  WISDOM.  19 


be  successful  which  leaves  this,  its  fundamental  idea, 
out  of  account  ;  as  well  might  one  attempt  to  understand 
a  picture  while  refusing  to  recognize  that  the  artist  had 
any  purpose  to  express  in  painting  it,  or  indeed  that  there 
was  any  artist  at  all.     So  much  every  one  will  admit. 

But  if  the  universe  is  not  the  work  of  a  Divine  mind, 
or  the  effect  of  a  Divine  will  ;  if  it  is  merely  the  work- 
ing of  a  blind,  irrational  Force,  which  realizes  no  end, 
because  it  has  no  end  to  realize ;  if  we,  the  feeble 
outcome  of  a  long,  unthinking  evolution,  are  the  first 
creatures  that  ever  thought^  and  the  only  creatures 
who  now  thuiky  in  all  the  universe  of  Being ;  it  follows 
that  of  a  universe  so  irrational  there  can  be  no  true 
knowledge  for  rational  beings,  and  of  a  scheme  of 
things  so  unwise  there  can  be  no  philosophy  or  wisdom. 
No  person  who  reflects  can  fail  to  recognize  this,  and 
this  is  the  truth  which  is  asserted  in  the  text.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  maintain  that  without  admitting  God  we 
cannot  have  knowledge  of  a  certain  number  of  empirical 
facts ;  but  that  does  not  constitute  a  philosophy  or  a 
wisdom.  It  is  necessary  to  maintain  that  without  admit- 
ting God  we  cannot  have  any  explanation  of  our  know- 
ledge, or  any  verification  of  it ;  without  admitting  God 
our  knowledge  can  never  come  to  any  roundness  or 
completeness  such  as  might  justify  our  calling  it  by 
the  name  of  Wisdom. 

Or  to  put  the  matter  in  a  slightly  different  way :  a 
thinking  mind  can  only  conceive  the  universe  as  the 
product  of  thought ;  if  the  universe  is  not  the  product 
of  thought  it  can  never  be  intelligible  to  a  thinking 
mind,  and  can  therefore  never  be  in  a  true  sense  the 
object  of  knowledge ;  to  deny  that  the  universe  is  the 
product  of  thought  is  to  deny  the  possibility  of  wisdom. 


THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 


We  find,  then,  that  it  is  not  a  dogma,  but  a  truth  of 
reason,  that  knowledge  must  start  with  the  recognition 
of  God. 

3.  But  now  we  come  to  an  assertion  which  is  the 
boldest  of  all,  and  for  the  present  we  shall  have  to 
be  content  to  leave  behind  many  who  have  readily 
followed  us  so  far.  That  we  are  bound  to  recognize 
^*  the  Lord,"  that  is  the  God  of  Revelation,  and  bow 
down  in  reverence  before  Him,  as  the  first  condition  of 
true  wisdom,  is  just  the  truth  which  multitudes  of  men 
who  claim  to  be  Theists  are  now  strenuously  denying. 
Must  we  be  content  to  leave  the  assertion  merely  as  a 
dogma  enunciated  on  the  authority  of  Scripture  ? 

Surely  they,  at  any  rate,  who  have  made  the  beginning 
of  wisdom  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  should  be  able  to  show 
that  the  possession  which  they  have  gained  is  actually 
wisdom,  and  does  not  rest  upon  an  irrational  dogma, 
incapable  of  proof. 

We  have  already  recognized  at  the  outset  that  the 
Wisdom  of  this  book  is  not  merely  an  intellectual 
account  of  the  reason  of  things,  but  also  more  specifi- 
cally an  explanation  of  the  moral  and  spiritual  life.  It 
may  be  granted  that  so  far  as  the  Intellect  alone  claims 
satisfaction  it  is  enough  to  posit  the  bare  idea  of  God 
as  the  condition  of  all  rational  existence.  But  when 
men  come  to  recognize  themselves  as  Spiritual  Beings, 
with  conceptions  of  right  and  wrong,  with  strong  affec- 
tions, with  soaring  aspirations,  with  ideas  which  lay 
hold  of  Eternity,  they  find  themselves-quite  incapable  of 
being  satisfied  with  the  bare  idea  of  God ;  the  soul  within 
them  pants  and  thirsts  for  a  living  God.  An  intellectual 
love  of  God  might  satisfy  purely  intellectual  creatures; 
but  to  meet  the  needs  of  man  as  he  is,  God  must  be  a 


i.  7.]  THE  BEGINNING   OF  WISDOM.  21 

God  that  manifests  His  own  personality,  and  does  not 
leave  Himself  without  a  witness  to  His  rational  creature. 
A  wisdom,  then,  that  is  to  truly  appraise  and  rightly  guide 
the  life  of  man  must  start  with  the  recognition  of  a  God 
whose  peculiar  designation  is  the  Self-existent  One,  and 
who  makes  Himself  known  to  man  by  that  name  ;  that 
is,  it  must  start  with  the  "  fear  of  tJie  LordT  ^ 

How  cogent  this  necessity  is  appears  directly  the 
alternative  is  stated.  If  Reason  assures  us  of  a  God 
that  made  us,  a  First  Cause  of  our  existence  and  of  our 
being  what  we  are ;  if  Reason  also  compels  us  to  refer 
to  Him  our  moral  nature,  our  desire  of  holiness,  and 
our  capacity  of  love,  what  could  be  a  greater  tax  on 
faith,  and  even  a  greater  strain  on  the  reason,  than  to 
declare  that,  notwithstanding,  God  has  not  revealed 
Himself  as  the  Lord  of  our  Hfe  and  the  God  of  our  sal- 
vation, as  the  authority  of  righteousness  or  the  object 
of  our  love  ?  When  the  question  is  stated  in  this  way 
it  appears  that  apart  from  a  veritable  and  trustworthy 
revelation  there  can  be  no  wisdom  which  is  capable  of 
really  deahng  with  human  life,  as  the  life  of  spiritual  and 
moral  creatures  ;  for  a  God  who  does  not  reveal  Himself 
would  be  devoid  of  the  highest  qualities  of  the  human 
spirit,  and  the  belief  in  a  God  who  is  inferior  to  man,  a 
Creator  who  is  less  than  the  creature,  could  furnish 
no  foundation  for  an  intelligible  system  of  thought. 

Our  text  now  stands  before  us,  not  as  the  unsup- 


'  It  may  be  well  to  remind  the  reader  who  is  too  familiar  with  the 
name  "  the  Lord  "  to  consider  its  significance;  that  "  the  Lord  "  is  the 
English  translation  of  that  peculiar  name,  Jahveh,  by  which  God 
revealed  Himself  to  Moses,  and  the  term  Jahveh  seems  to  convey  one 
of  two  ideas,  existence  or  the  cause  of  existence,  according  to  the 
vowel-pointing  of  the  consonants  n'in\ 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


ported  deliverance  of  dogma,  but  as  a  condensed  utter- 
ance of  the  human  reason.  We  see  that  starting  from 
the  conception  of  Wisdom  as  the  sum  of  that  which  is, 
and  the  sufficient  explanation  of  all  things,  as  including 
therefore  not  only  the  laws  of  nature,  but  also  the  laws 
of  human  life,  both  spiritual  and  moral,  we  can  make 
no  step  towards  the  acquisition  of  wisdom  without  a 
sincere  and  absolute  reverence,  a  recognition  of  God  as 
the  Author  of  the  universe  which  we  seek  to  understand, 
and  as  the  Personal  Being,  the  Self-existent  One,  who 
reveals  Himself  under  that  significant  name  "  I  am," 
and  declares  His  will  to  our  waiting  hearts.  "  To 
whom  hath  the  root  of  Wisdom  been  revealed  ?  or  who 
hath  known  her  wise  counsels  ?  There  is  one  wise, 
and  greatly  to  be  feared,  the  Lord  sitting  upon  His 
throne."  ^ 

In  this  way  is  struck  the  key-note  of  the  Jewish 
"  Wisdom."  It  is  profoundly  true  ;  it  is  stimulating 
and  helpful.  But  it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  remind 
ourselves  even  thus  early  that  the  idea  on  which  we 
have  been  dwelling  comes  short  of  the  higher  truth 
which  has  been  given  us  in  Christ.  It  hardly  entered 
into  the  mind  of  a  Hebrew  thinker  to  conceive  that 
"  fear  of  the  Lord  "  might  pass  into  full,  whole-hearted, 
and  perfect  love.  And  yet  it  may  be  shown  that  this 
was  the  change  effected  when  Christ  was  of  God 
*'  made  unto  us  Wisdom  ;  "  it  is  not  that  the  "  fear," 
or  reverence,  becomes  less,  but  it  is  that  the  fear  is 
swallowed  up  in  the  larger  and  more  gracious  senti- 
ment. For  us  who  have  received  Christ  as  our  Wisdom, 
it  has  become  almost  a  truism  that  we  must  love  in 

'  Eccles.  i.  6,  8. 


7.]  THE  BEGINNING  OF  WISDOM.  23 


order  to  know.     We  recognize  that  the  causes  of  things 
remain   hidden    from  us   until    our   hearts    have    been 
kindled  into  an  ardent  love  towards  the  First  Cause, 
God    Himself:    we    find    that    even    our    processes   of 
reasoning  are   faulty  until  they  are  touched  with  the 
Divine   tenderness,  and   rendered   sympathetic   by  the 
infusion  of  a  loftier  passion.     And  it  is  quite  in  accord- 
ance with  this  fuller  truth  that  both  science  and  philo- 
sophy have  made  genuine  progress  only  in  Christian 
lands  and  under  Christian  influences.     Where  the  touch 
of  Christ's  hand  has  been  most  decisively  felt,  in  Ger- 
many, in  England,  in  America,  and  where  consequently 
Wisdom  has  attained  a  nobler,  a  richer,  a  more  tender 
significance,  there,  under  fostering  powers,  which  are 
not  the  less  real  because  they  are  not  always  acknow- 
ledged,   the    great    discoveries    have    been    made,    the 
great  systems  of  thought  have  been  framed,  and  the 
great    counsels    of    conduct    have   gradually    assumed 
substance  and  authority.     And  from  a  wide  observation 
of  facts  we  are  able  to  say,  "The  fear  of  the  Lord  is 
the  beginning  of  wisdom  and  knowledge;"  yes,  but  the 
Wisdom  of  God  has  led  us  on  from  fear  to  love,  and 
in  the  Love  of  the  Lord  is  found  the  fulfilment  of  that 
which  trembled  into  birth  through  fear. 


II. 

WISDOM   AS    THE    GUIDE    OF   CONDUCT. 

"  To  deliver  thee  from  the  way  of  the  evil  man.  .  .  . 
To  deliver  thee  from  the  strange  woman." — Prov.  ii.  I2a-l6a. 

WISDOM  is  concerned,  as  we  have  seen,  with 
the  whole  universe  of  fact,  with  the  whole 
range  of  thought ;  she  surveys  and  orders  all  pro- 
cesses of  nature.     We  might  say  of  her, 

"  She  doth  preserve  the  stars  from  wrong, 
And  the  most  ancient  heavens  by  her  are  fresh  and  strong." 

But  while  she  is  occupied  in  these  high  things,  she  is  no 
less  attentive  to  the  affairs  of  human  life,  and  her  delight 
is  to  order  human  conduct,  not  despising  even  the  smallest 
detail  of  that  which  is  done  by  men  under  the  sun. 
Side  by  side  with  physical  laws,  indeed  often  intertwined 
with  them,  appear  the  moral  laws  which  issue  from  the 
lively  oracles  of  Wisdom.  There  is  not  one  authority 
for  natural  phenomena,  and  another  for  mental  and  moral 
phenomena.  As  we  should  say  now.  Truth  is  one  : 
Science  is  one  :  Law  is  one.  The  laws  of  the  physical 
order,  the  laws  of  the  speculative  reason,  the  laws  of 
practical  life,  form  a  single  system,  come  from  the  sole 
mind  of  God,  and  are  the  impartial  interests  of  Wisdom. 
As  the  great  authority  on  Conduct,  Wisdom  is  pic- 
tured standing  in  the  places  where  men  congregate,  where 


ii.  I2a-i6n.]     WISDOM  AS  THE  GUIDE  OF  CONDUCT.         25 

the  busy  hum  of  human  voices  and  the  rush  of  hurried 
feet  make  it  necessary  for  her  to  Hft  up  her  voice  in  order 
to  gain  attention.  With  words  of  winsome  wooing — 
"  for  wisdom  shall  enter  into  thy  heart,  and  knowledge 
shall  be  pleasant  unto  thy  soul  "  ^ — or  with  loud  threats 
and  stern  declarations  of  truth — ''  the  backsliding  of  the 
simple  shall  slay  them,  and  the  prosperity  of  fools  shall 
destroy  them  "  - — she  tries  to  win  us,  while  we  are  yet 
young,  to  her  paths  of  pleasantness  and  her  ways  of 
peace.  Her  object  is  to  deliver  youth,  (i)  from  the  evil 
man,  and  (2)  from  the  evil  woman,  or  in  the  most  com- 
prehensive way  *'  to  deliver  us  from  evil." 

First  of  all,  we  may  spend  a  few  moments  in  noting 
the  particular  temptations  to  which  men  were  exposed 
in  the  days  when  these  chapters  were  written.^  There 
was  a  temptation  to  join  a  troop  of  banditti,  and  to 
obtain  a  living  by  acts  of  highway  robbery  which 
would  frequently  result  in  murder ;  and  there  was 
the  temptation  to  the  sin  which  we  call  specifically 
Impurity,  a  temptation  which  arose  not  so  much  from 
the  existence  of  a  special  class  of  fallen  women,  as 
from  the  shocking  looseness  and  voluptuousness  of 
married  women  in  well-to-do  circumstances. 

Society  under  the  kings  never  seems  to  have  reached 
anything  approaching  to  an  ordered  security.  We 
cannot  point  to  any  period  when  the  mountain  roads, 
even  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  capital,  were  not 
haunted  by  thieves,  who  lurked  in  the  rocks  or  the 
copses,  and  fell  upon  passing  travellers,  to  strip  and  to 

'  Prov.  ii.  10.  2  Pi-ov.  i.  32, 

•  We  may  remind  ourselves  that,  according  to  the  most  probable 
conjecture,  this  introduction  to  Solomon's  Proverbs  (chaps,  i.-ix.) 
dates  from  the  reign  of  Josiah  (640-609  b.c). 


26  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

rob,  and  if  need  be  to  kill  them.  When  such  things 
are  done,  when  such  things  are  even  recounted  in 
sensational  literature,  there  are  multitudes  of  young 
men  who  are  stirred  to  a  debased  ambition  ;  a  spurious 
glory  encircles  the  brow  of  the  adventurer  who  sets  the 
laws  of  society  at  defiance ;  and  without  any  personal 
entreaty  the  foolish  youth  is  disposed  to  leave  the 
quiet  ways  of  industry  for  the  stimulating  excitement 
and  the  false  glamour  of  the  bandit  life.  The  reckless 
plottings  of  the  robbers  are  described  in  chap.  i.  11-14. 
The  character  of  the  men  themselves  is  given  in 
iv.  16,  17:  "They  sleep  not,  except  they  have  done 
mischief;  and  their  sleep  is  taken  away,  unless  they 
cause  some  to  fall.  For  they  eat  the  bread  of  wicked- 
ness, and  drink  the  wine  of  violence."  The  proverb 
in  xxiv.  15  is  addressed  to  such  an  one:  "Lay  not 
wait,  O  wicked  man,  against  the  habitation  of  the 
righteous  ;  spoil  not  his  resting-place." 

The  rebukes  of  the  prophets — Isaiah,  Micah,  Jeremiah 
— may  have  a  wider  application,  but  they  seem  at  any 
rate  to  include  this  highwayman's  life.  "Your  hands 
are  full  of  blood  "  is  the  charge  of  Isaiah ;  ^  and  again, 
"  Their  feet  run  to  evil,  and  they  make  haste  to  shed 
innocent  blood ;  their  thoughts  are  thoughts  of 
iniquity."  ^  "  They  build  up  Zion  with  blood,"  says 
Micah  indignantly.^  Jeremiah  cries  with  still  more 
vehemence  to  his  generation,  "Also  in  thy  skirts  is 
found  the  blood  of  the  souls  of  the  innocent  poor ; "  * 
and  again,  ''  But  thine  eyes  and  thine  heart  are  not  but 
for  thy  covetousness,  and  for  to  shed  innocent  blood, 
and  for  oppression,  and  for  violence,  to  do  it."^ 

'  Isa.  i.  15.  ^  Micah  iii.  10.  Jer.  xxii.  17. 

"^  Isa.  lix.  7.  *  Jer.  ii.  34. 


ii.  i2a-\6a.]     WISDOM  AS  THE  GUIDE  OF  CONDUCT.         27 


We  are  to  conceive,  then,  the  young  and  active  men 

of  the  day  constantly  tempted  to  take  these  unhallowed 
paths  which  seemed  to  promise  wealth ;  the  sinners 
were  always  ready  to  whisper  in  the  ears  of  those 
whose  life  was  tedious  and  unattractive,^  *'  Cast  in 
thy  lot  among  us ;  we  will  all  have  one  purse."  The 
moral  sense  of  the  community  was  not  sufficiently 
developed  to  heartily  condemn  this  life  of  iniquity  ;  as 
in  the  eighteenth  century  among  ourselves,  so  in  Israel 
when  this  book  was  written,  there  existed  in  the  minds 
of  the  people  at  large  a  lurking  admiration  for  the  bold 
and  dashing  "  gentlemen  of  the  way." 

The  other  special  temptation  of  that  day  is  described 
in  our  book  with  remarkable  realism,  and  there  is  no 
false  shame  in  exposing  the  paths  of  death  into  which  it 
leads.  In  v.  3-20  the  subject  is  treated  in  the  plainest 
way  :  ^'  Her  latter  end  is  bitter  as  wormwood,  sharp 
as  a  two-edged  sword.  Her  feet  go  down  to  death  ; 
her  steps  take  hold  on  Sheol."  It  is  taken  up  agai.i 
in  vi.  24-35:  "Can  a  man  take  fire  in  his  bosom, 
and  his  clothes  not  be  burned  ?  or  can  one  walk 
upon  hot  coals,  and  his  feet  not  be  scorched  ?  "  The 
guilty  man  who  has  been  betrayed  by  the  glitter  and 
beauty,  by  the  honeyed  words  and  the  soft  entreaties, 
"shall  get  wounds  and  dishonour,  and  his  reproach 
shall  not  be  wiped  away." 

In  chap.  vii.  5-27  a  most  vivid  picture  is  drawn 
of  the  foolish  youth  seduced  into  evil ;  there  he  is 
seen  going  as  an  ox  to  the  slaughter,  as  one  in  fetters, 
'*  till  an  arrow  strike  through  his  liver ;  as  a  bird 
hasteth  to  the  snare,  and  knoweth  not  that  it  is  for  his 


'  Prov.  i.  14.     Compare  the  proverb,  xvi.  29,  "A  man  of  violence 
enticeth  his  neighbour,  and  leadeth  him  in  a  way  that  is  not  good." 


28  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

life."  And  the  Introduction  closes  with  a  delineation 
of  Folly,  which  is  obviously  meant  as  a  counterpart 
to  the  delineation  of  Wisdom  in  chap.  i.  20,  etc.^  The 
miserable  woman  sits  at  the  door  of  her  house,  on 
a  seat  in  the  high  places  of  the  city  ;  with  seductive 
words  she  wins  the  foolish  passers-by  to  enter  her 
doors :  '*  the  dead  are  there ;  her  guests  are  in  the 
depths  of  Sheol." 

It  is  a  temptation  which  in  many  varying  forms  has 
always  beset  human  life.  No  small  part  of  the  danger 
is  that  this  evil,  above  all  others,  grows  in  silence, 
and  yet  seems  to  be  aggravated  by  publicity.  The 
preacher  cannot  speak  plainly  about  it,  and  even  writers 
shrink  from  touching  the  subject.  We  can,  however,  be 
thankful  that  the  book,  which  is  God's  book  rather 
than  man's,  knows  nothing  of  our  false  modesty  and  con- 
ventional delicacy  :  it  speaks  out  not  only  boldly,  but 
minutely;  it  is  so  explicit  that  no  man  who  with  a 
prayerful  heart  will  meditate  upon  its  teachings  need 
fall  into  the  pitfall — that  pitfall  which  seems  to  grow 
even  more  subtle  and  more  seductive  as  civilization  ad- 
vances, and  as  the  great  cities  absorb  a  larger  proportion 
of  the  population  ;  or  if  he  fall  he  can  only  admit  with 
shame  and  remorse,  "  I  have  hated  instruction,  and  my 
heart  despised  reproof.  Neither  have  I  obeyed  the 
voice  of  my  teachers,  nor  inclined  mine  ear  to  them 
that  instructed  me.  I  was  well-nigh  in  all  evil  in 
the  midst  of  the  congregation  and  assembly."  ^ 

In  the  second  place,  we  must  try  to  look  at  these 
temptations  in  the  light  of  our  own  day,  in  order  that 
we  may  listen  to  the  voice  of  wisdom,  not  in  the  anti- 

*  Prov.  ix.  13-18.  -  Prov.  v.  12-14. 


ii.  i2a-\6a.]     WISDOM  AS  THE  GUIDE  OE  CONDUCT.        29 

quarian,  but  rather  in  the  practical  spirit.  The  second 
temptation  exists  amongst  us  almost  unchanged,  ex- 
cept that  the  vast  accumulation  and  concentration  of 
vice  in  great  cities  has  provided  that  mournful  band  of 
women  whom  a  great  moralist  has  designated  the 
Vestal  Virgins  of  Humanity,  consecrated  to  shame  and 
ruin  in  order  to  preserve  unsulHed  the  sacred  flame 
of  the  domestic  altar.  The  result  of  this  terrible 
development  in  evil  is  that  the  deadly  sin  has  become 
safer  for  the  sinner,  and  in  certain  circles  of  society 
has  become  recognized  as  at  any  rate  a  venial  fault,  if 
not  an  innocent  necessity.  It  is  well  to  read  these 
chapters  again  with  our  eye  on  the  modern  evil,  and 
to  let  the  voice  of  Wisdom  instruct  us  that  the  life  is 
not  the  less  blighted  because  the  body  remains  un- 
punished, and  vice  is  not  the  less  vicious  because, 
instead  of  ruining  others  for  its  gratification,  it  feeds 
only  on  those  who  are  already  ruined.  If  the  Wisdom 
of  the  Old  Testament  is  obscure  on  this  point,  the 
Wisdom  of  the  New  Testament  gives  no  uncertain 
sound.  Interpreting  the  doctrine  of  our  book,  as 
Christians  are  bound  to  do,  by  the  light  of  Christ,  we 
can  be  left  in  no  doubt  that  to  all  forms  of  impurity 
applies  the  one  principle  which  is  here  applied  to  a 
specific  form  :  "  He  doeth  it  that  would  destroy  his 
own  soul."  ^*  His  own  iniquities  shall  take  the  wicked, 
and  he  shall  be  holden  with  the  cords  of  his  sin."^ 

But  with  regard  to  the  first  of  the  two  temptations, 
it  may  be  urged  that  in  our  settled  and  ordered  society 
it  is  no  longer  felt.  We  are  not  tempted  to  become 
highwaymen,  nor  even  to  embark  on   the  career  of  a 

'  Prov.  vi.  32  and  v.  22. 


30  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

professional  thief.  We  are  disposed  to  skim  lightly 
over  the  warning,  under  the  impression  that  it  does 
not  in  any  way  apply  to  us.  But  stop  a  moment ! 
Wisdom  spoke  in  the  first  instance  direct  to  the  vice  of 
her  day,  but  she  gave  to  her  precepts  a  more  general 
colouring,  which  makes  it  applicable  to  all  time,  when 
she  said,  ^'  So  are  the  ways  of  every  one  that  is  greedy 
of  gain  ;  it  taketh  away  the  life  of  the  owners  thereof."  - 
The  specific  form  of  greediness  described  in  this  first 
chapter  may  have  become  obsolete  among  decent  and 
respectable  people  ;  but  that  greed  of  gain  which 
showed  itself  then  in  a  particular  form  is  aUve  to-day. 
Dressed  in  a  different  garb,  it  presents  temptations  of  a 
slightly  different  order ;  but  the  spirit  is  the  same,  the 
issue,  the  fatal  issue,  is  the  same.  It  is  a  melancholy 
fact  that  in  the  most  progressive  and  civilized  com- 
munities the  greed  of  gain,  instead  of  dying  out, 
becomes  aggravated,  acquires  a  dominant  influence, 
and  sways  men  as  the  master  passion.  The  United 
States,  a  country  so  bountiful  to  her  children  that  a 
settled  peace  might  be  supposed  to  pervade  the  life  of 
men  who  can  never  be  in  fear  of  losing  the  necessaries, 
or  even  the  comforts,  of  life,  are  inflamed  with  a  fierce 
and  fiery  passion.  Society  is  one  perpetual  turmoil ; 
fife  is  lived  at  the  highest  conceivable  pressure,  because 
each  individual  is  seeking  to  gain  more  and  ever  more. 
In  our  own  country,  though  society  is  less  fluid,  and 
ancient  custom  checks  the  action  of  disturbing  forces, 
the  passion  for  gain  becomes  every  year  a  more  exact- 
ing tyranny  over  the  lives  of  the  people.  We  are 
engaged  in  a  pitiless  warfare,  which  we  dignify  by  the 

'  Prov.  i.  19. 


ii.  I2a-i6a.]     WISDOM  AS  THE  GUIDE  OF  CONDUCT.        31 


name  of  competition  ;  the  race  is  to  the  swift,  and  the 
battle  to  the  strong.  It  becomes  almost  a  recognized 
principle  that  man  is  at  liberty  to  prey  upon  his  fellow 
man.  The  Eternal  Law  of  Wisdom  declares  that  we 
should  treat  others  as  we  treat  ourselves,  and  count 
the  interests  of  others  dear  as  our  own  ;  it  teaches  us 
that  we  should  show  a  tender  consideration  for  the 
weak,  and  be  always  ready,  at  whatever  cost,  to  succour 
the  helpless.  But  competition  says,  "  No;  you  must  try 
rather  to  beat  the  weak  out  of  the  field  ;  you  must 
leave  no  device  untried  to  reduce  the  strength  of  the 
strong,  and  to  divert  into  your  own  hands  the  grist 
which  was  going  to  your  neighbour's  mill."  This 
conflict  between  man  and  man  is  untempered  by  pity, 
because  it  is  supposed  to  be  unavoidable  as  death  itself. 
In  a  community  so  constituted,  where  business  has 
fallen  into  such  ways,  while  the  strong  may  hold  their 
own  with  a  clean  hand,  the  weaker  are  tempted  to 
make  up  by  cunning  what  they  lack  in  strength,  and 
the  weakest  are  ground  as  the  nether  millstone.  The 
pitilessness  of  ihe  whole  system  is  appalling,  the  more 
so  because  it  is  accepted  as  necessary. 

The  Bandit  life  has  here  emerged  in  a  new  form. 
"  Come,  let  us  lay  wait  for  blood/'  says  the  Sweater  or 
the  Fogger,  "  let  us  lurk  privily  for  the  innocent  without 
cause  ;  let  us  swallow  them  up  alive  as  Sheol,  and 
whole  as  those  that  go  down  into  the  pit."  ^  The 
Bandit  is  an  outcast  from  society,  and  his  hand  is 
turned  against  the  rich.     The  Sweater  is  an   outcast 

'  A  dog-chain  sold  in  London  at  one  shilling  and  threepence  was 
found  to  have  cost,  for  materials  twopence,  for  labour  three-farthings. 
(Evidence  before  Lord  Dunraven's  Commission  on  the  Sweating 
System). 


32  THEcBOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

from  society,  and  his  hand  is  turned  against  the  poor. 
By  *'  laying  wait "  he  is  able  to  demand,  from  weak 
men,  women,  and  children,  the  long  hours  of  the  day 
for  unceasing  toil,  and  the  bitter  hours  of  the  night  for 
hunger  and  cold,  until  the  gaunt  creatures,  worn  with 
weariness  and  despair,  find  a  solace  in  debauchery 
or  an  unhallowed  rest  in  death. 

Now,  though  the  temptation  to  become  a  sweater 
may  not  affect  many  or  any  of  us,  I  should  like  to  ask, 
Are  there  not  certain  trades  or  occupations,  into  which 
some  of  us  are  tempted  to  enter,  perfectly  honeycombed 
with  questionable  practices  ?  Under  the  pretext  that 
it  is  all  ^'business,"  are  not  things  done  which  can  only 
be  described  as  preying  upon  the  innocence  or  the 
stupidity  of  our  neighbours  ?  Sometimes  the  promise 
is,  "  We  shall  find  all  precious  substance,  we  shall  fill 
our  houses  with  spoil. "^  Sometimes  the  simple  object 
is  to  escape  starvation.  But  there  is  the  miserable 
temptation  to  sacrifice  probity  and  honour,  to  stifle 
compassion  and  thought,  in  order  to  bring  into  our 
own  coffers  the  coveted  wealth.  And  is  there  not,  I 
ask,  a  similar  temptation  lurking  in  a  thousand  haunts 
more  or  less  respectable — a  temptation  which  may  be 
described  as  the  spirit  of  gambling  ?  The  essence  of 
all  gambling,  whether  it  be  called  speculative  business 
or  gaming,  in  stock  and  share  markets  or  in  betting 
clubs  and  turf  rings,  is  simply  the  attempt  to  trade  on 
the  supposed  ignorance  or  misfortune  of  others,  and  to 
use  superior  knowledge  or  fortune  for  the  purpose,  not 
of  helping,  but  of  robbing  them.  It  may  be  said  that 
we  do  it  in  self-defence,  and  that  others  would  do  the 

'  See  Prov.  i.  13. 


ii.  I2a-i6a.]     WISDOM  AS  THE:  GUIDE  OF  CONDUCT.        33 

same  by  us ;  yes,  just  as  the  bandit  says  to  the  young 
man,  "We  do  not  want  to  injure  the  traveller  yonder  ; 
we  want  his  purse.  He  will  try  to  shoot  you  ;  you  only 
shoot  him  in  self-defence."  It  is  the  subtlety  of  all 
gambling  that  constitutes  its  great  danger.  It  seems  to 
turn  on  the  principle  that  we  may  do  what  we  like 
with  our  own ;  it  forgets  that  its  object  is  to  get  hold 
of  what  belongs  to  others,  not  by  honest  work  or 
service  rendered,  but  simply  by  cunning  and  deception. 

It  is,  then,  only  too  easy  to  recognize,  in  many  varied 
shapes  of  so-called  business  and  of  so-called  pleasure, 
"  the  ways  of  those  who  are  greedy  of  gain."  Wisdom 
has  need  to  cry  aloud  in  our  streets,  in  the  chief  place 
of  concourse,  in  the  city,  in  exchanges  and  marts. 
Her  warning  to  the  young  man  must  be  explicit  and 
solemn  :  "  My  son,  if  sinners  entice  thee,  consent  thou 
not."  The  bandit  life  still  has  its  attractions,  though  its 
methods  are  changed ;  it  plays  upon  the  idle  imagina- 
tion :  it  promises  freedom  from  laborious  and  distasteful 
toil ;  but  it  says  nothing  of  the  ways  of  death  into 
which  it  leads. 

Now,  in  the  third  place,  we  come  to  the  protest  of 
Divine  Wisdom  against  these  evil  ways  in  which  men 
are  tempted  to  walk.  They  are,  she  says,  folly  of  the 
most  egregious  kind.  There  may  be  an  apparent 
success  or  a  momentary  gratification ;  "  precious  sub- 
stance may  be  amassed,  and  houses  may  be  filled  with 
spoil ; "  but  the  people  who  are  betrayed  into  these 
wicked  courses  "shall  be  cut  off  from  the  land."  ^  They 
'*  lay  wait  for  their  own  blood  ;  "  greed  "  taketh  away 
the  life  of  the  owner  thereof ;  "  ^  and  as  for  the  strange 

Prov.  ii.  22,  ^  Prov.  i.  19. 


34  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

woman,  that  flattereth  with  her  words,  ^'  none  that  go 
unto  her  return  again."  ^ 

It  needs  but  a  clear  vision  or  a  little  wise  reflection 
to  see  the  destructive  tendency  of  Evil.     It  is  the  com- 
monest fact  of  experience  that  where  ^'vice  goes  before, 
vengeance  follows  after."     Why  do  men  not  perceive 
it  ?     There  is  a  kind  of  fatuity  which  blinds  the  eyes. 
The  empty-headed  bird  sees  the  net  spread  out  before 
its  eyes  ;  ^^  many  of  its  fellows  have  already  been  caught ; 
the  warning  seems  obvious  enough,  but  it  is  all  *'  in 
vain  ; "  eager  to  get  the  bait — the  dainty  morsel  lying 
there,    easily    obtainable  —  the    foolish    creature    ap- 
proaches, looks,  argues  that  it  is  swifter  and  stronger 
than   its   predecessors,    who   were    but  weaklings !    it 
will    wheel    down,   take  the    food,  and    be    gone   long 
before   the  flaps  of  the  net  can  spring  together.       In 
the    same   way   the  empty-headed   youth,  warned   by 
the  experience  of  elders   and  the  tender  entreaties  of 
father  and  mother,  assured  that  these  ways  of  unjust 
gain  are  ways  of  ruin,   is    yet  rash   enough   to  enter 
the  snare  in  order  to  secure  the  coveted  morsel.     And 
what  is  the  issue  ?    Setting  at  nought  all  the  counsel  of 
Wisdom,  he  would  none  of  her  reproof.^     A  momentary 
success  led  to  wilder  infatuation,  and  convinced  him 
that  he  was  right,  and   Wisdom  was  wrong;   but  his 
prosperity  destroyed  him.     Soon  in  the  shame  of  ex- 
posure and    the    misery    of  remorse   he  discovers  his 
mistake.     Or,  worse  still,  no  exposure  comes;  success 
continues  to  his  dying  day,  and  he  leaves  his  substance 
to  his  heirs ;  *'  he  eats  of  the  fruits  of  his  own  way,  and 
is  filled  with  his  own  devices,"*  but  none  the  less  he 

'  Prov.  ii.  19.  3  prov.  i.  25. 

-  Prov.  i.  17.  *  Prov.  i.  31,  32. 


ii.  I2a-l6a.] 


walks  in  the  ways  of  darkness — in  paths  that  are 
crooked  and  perverse — and  he  is  consumed  with  in- 
ward misery.  The  soul  within  is  hard,  and  dry,  and 
dead ;  it  is  insensible  to  all  feelings  except  feelings 
of  torture.  It  is  a  life  so  dark  and  wretched,  that 
when  a  sudden  light  is  thrown  upon  its  hidden  secrets 
men  are  filled  with  astonishment  and  dismay,  that  such 
things  could  exist  underneath  that  quiet  surface. 

Finally,  note  these  two  characteristics  of  the  Divine 
Wisdom  :  (i)  she  is  found  in  her  fulness  only  by 
diligent  seekers  ;  and  (2)  rejected,  she  turns  into  the 
most  scornful  and  implacable  foe. 

She  is  to  be  sought  as  silver  or  hidden  treasure  is 
sought.  The  search  must  be  inspired  by  that  eager- 
ness of  desire  and  passion  of  resolve  with  which 
avarice  seeks  for  money.  No  faculty  must  be  left  un- 
employed :  the  ear  is  to  be  inclined  to  catch  the  first 
low  sounds  of  wisdom  ;  the  hearl  is  to  be  applied  to 
understand  what  is  heard  ;  the  very  voice  is  to  be  lifted  up 
in  earnest  inquiry.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  the 
fear  of  the  Lord  and  the  knowledge  of  God  are  not 
fruits  which  grow  on  every  wayside  bush,  to  be  plucked 
by  every  idle  passer-by,  to  be  dropped  carelessly  and 
trodden  under  foot.  Without  seriousness  and  devotion, 
without  protracted  and  unflagging  toil,  the  thmgs  of 
God  are  not  to  be  attained.  You  must  be  up  betimes  ; 
you  must  be  on  your  knees  early ;  you  must  lay  open 
the  book  of  Wisdom,  pore  over  its  pages,  and  diligently 
turn  its  leaves,  meditating  on  its  sayings  day  and  night. 
The  kingdom  of  God  and  His  righteousness  must  be 
sought,  yes,  and  sought  first,  sought  exclusively,  as  the 
one  important  object  of  desire.  That  easy  indifference, 
that  lazy  optimism — "  it  will  all  come  right  in  the  end  " 


36  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

— that  habit  of  delay  in  deciding,  that  inclination  to 
postpone  the  eternal  realities  to  vanishing  shadows, 
will  be  your  ruin.  The  time  may  come  when  you  will 
call,  and  there  will  be  no  answer,  when  you  will  seek 
diligently,  but  shall  not  find.  Then  in  the  day  of  your 
calamity,  when  your  fear  cometh,  what  a  smile  of  scorn 
will  seem  to  be  on  Wisdom's  placid  brow,  and  around 
her  eloquent  lips  !  what  derision  will  seem  to  ring  in 
the  well-remembered  counsels  which  you  rejected.^  O 
tide  in  the  affairs  of  men  !  O  tide  in  the  affairs  of  God  ! 
We  are  called  to  stand  by  death-beds,  to  look  into 
anguished  eyes  which  know  that  it  is  too  late.  The 
bandit  of  commercial  life  passes  into  that  penal  servi- 
tude which  only  death  will  end  ;  what  agony  breaks  out 
and  hisses  in  his  remorse  !  The  wretched  victim  of  lust 
passes  from  the  house  of  his  sin  down  the  path  which 
inclines  unto  death  ;  how  terrible  is  that  visage  which 
just  retains  smirched  traces  that  purity  once  was  there ! 
The  voice  rings  down  the  doleful  road,  "  If  I  had  only 
been  wise,  if  I  had  given  ear,  wisdom  might  have 
entered  even  into  my  heart,  knowledge  might  have 
been  pleasant  even  to  my  soul  ! " 

And  wisdom  still  cries  to  us,  *'  Turn  you  at  my 
reproof:  behold,  I  will  pour  out  my  spirit  unto  you, 
I  will  make  known  my  words  unto  you." 

'  Prov.  i.  24-31. 


III. 

THE    EARTHLY   REIVARDS    OF  WISDOM. 
Prov.  iii.   I -10. 

THE  general  teaching  of  these  nine  introductory 
chapters  is  that  the  "ways  of  Wisdom  are 
pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  are  peace."  We  are 
taught  to  look  for  the  fruit  of  righteousness  in  long  life 
and  prosperity,  for  the  penalty  of  sin  in  premature 
destruction.  *'  The  upright  shall  dwell  in  the  land,  and 
the  perfect  shall  remain  in  it.  But  the  wicked  shall  be 
cut  off  from  the  land,  and  they  that  deal  treacherously 
shall  be  rooted  out  of  it."  ^  The  foolish  "  shall  eat  Oi 
the  fruit  of  their  own  way,  and  be  filled  with  their  own 
devices.  For  the  backsliding  of  the  simple  shall  slay 
them,  and  the  prosperity  of  fools  shall  destroy  them. 
But  whoso  hearkeneth  unto  Wisdom  shall  dwell  se- 
curely, and  shall  be  quiet  without  fear  of  evil."  ^  "  By 
Wisdom  thy  days  shall  be  multiplied,  and  the  years  ot 
thy  life  shall  be  increased.  If  thou  art  wise,  thou  art 
wise  for  thyself;  and  if  thou  scornest,  thou  alone  shall 
bear  it."  The  ways  of  Folly  have  this  legend  written 
over  the  entrance-gate  :  "  The  dead  are  there ;  her 
guests  are  in  the  depths  of  Sheol."  ^ 

This  teaching  is  summarized  in  the  passage  before 

'  Prov.  ii.  21,  22.  -  Prov.  i.  31-33.  '  Prov.  ix.  12,  18. 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


us.  "  My  son,  forget  not  my  law  ;  but  let  thine  heart 
keep  my  commandments  :  for  length  of  days,  and  years 
of  life,  and  peace,  shall  they  add  to  thee.  Let  not 
mercy  and  truth,"  those  primary  requirements  of  wisdom, 
"  forsake  thee  :  bind  them  about  thy  neck  ;  write  them 
upon  the  table  of  thy  heart ;  "  i.e.  let  them  be  an  orna- 
ment which  strikes  the  eye  of  the  beholder,  but  also  an 
inward  law  which  regulates  the  secret  thought.  "  So 
shalt  thou  find  favour  and  good  understanding  in  the 
sight  of  God  and  man ; "  that  is  to  say,  the  charm  of  thy 
character  will  conciliate  the  love  of  thy  fellow  creatures 
and  of  thy  God,  while  they  recognize,  and  He  approves, 
the  spiritual  state  from  which  these  graces  grow. 
*'  Trust  in  the  Lord  with  all  thine  heart,  and  lean  not 
upon  thine  own  understanding  :  ^  in  all  thy  ways  ac- 
knowledge Him,  and  He  shall  direct  thy  paths.  Be  not 
wise  in  thine  own  eyes  ;  fear  the  Lord,  and  depart  from 
evil  :  it  shall  be  health  to  thy  navel,  and  marrow  to  thy 
bones.  Honour  the  Lord  with  thy  substance,  and  with 
the  first-fruits  of  all  thy  increase :  so  shall  thy  barns  be 
filled  with  plenty,  and  thy  vats  shall  overflow  with  new 
wine."  ^ 

The  rewards  of  wisdom,  then,  are  health  and  long  life, 
the  good-will  of  God  and  man,  prosperity,  and  abun- 
dant earthly  possessions.  As  our  Lord  would  put  it, 
they  who  leave  house,  or  wife,  or  brethren,  or  parents, 
or  children,  for  the  kingdom  of  God's  sake,  shall  receive 
manifold  more  in  this  time,  even  of  the  things  which 
they  surrender,  in  addition  to  the  everlasting  life  in  the 
time  to  come.  ^ 

*  Cf.  xxviii.  26,  "He  that  trusteth  in  his  own  heart  is  a  fool:  but 
whoso  walketh  wisely,  he  shall  be  delivered." 

^  Prov.  iii.  i-io.  *  Luke  xviii.  29,  30. 


I- 10.]    THE  EARTHLY  REWARDS  OF  WISDOM. 


This  is  a  side  of  truth  which  we  frequently  allow  to 
drop  out  of  sight,  in  order  to  emphasize  another  side 
which  is  considered  more  important.  We  are  accus- 
tomed to  dwell  on  the  promised  joys  of  the  future  world 
as  if  godliness  had  no  promise  of  the  life  which  now  is, 
and  in  so  doing  we  take  all  life  and  colour  from  those 
expected  blessings.  The  true  view  seems  to  be,  The 
way  of  wisdom,  the  path  of  the  upright,  is  so  full  of 
joy,  so  crowned  with  peace  ;  the  Hfe  of  the  children  of 
the  kingdom  is  so  wisely  and  bountifully  provided  for ; 
the  inevitable  pains  and  troubles  which  fall  to  their 
share  are  so  transformed ;  that  from  this  present  good 
we  can  infer  a  future  better,  gathering  hints  and  pro- 
mises of  what  we  shall  be  from  the  realized  felicity  of 
what  we  are. 

If  we  try  to  estimate  the  temporal  blessings  of 
wisdom  we  do  not  thereby  deny  the  larger  and  more 
lasting  blessings  which  are  to  come ;  while  if  we  ignore 
these  present  joyful  results  we  deprive  ourselves  of  the 
surest  evidence  for  the  things  which,  though  hoped  for, 
are  not  yet  seen. 

We  may,  then,  with  much  advantage  try  to  estimate 
some  of  the  immediate  and  apprehensible  benefits  of 
the  life  which  is  lived  according  to  the  dictates  of 
heavenly  wisdom. 

(i)  First  of  all,  the  right  life  is  a  wholesome  life — 
yes,  physically  healthy.  Obedience  to  the  eternal 
moral  laws  brings  "health  to  the  navel,"  and  that 
peculiar  brightness  which  is  like  the  freshness  of  dew.^ 
The    body   is   a    sacred   trust,  a    temple  of   the    Holy 

*  The  Hebrew  word  "••IJ?!^  in  iii.  86  is  the  same  as  that  which  is 
translated  "  my  drink  "  in  Hosea  ii.  6.  The  LXX.  render  it  "  marrow,' 
but  it  means  the  moisture  which  in  a  natural  and  healthy  state  keeps 


40  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

Ghost ;  to  use  it  ill  is  to  violate  the  trust  and  to  defile 
the  temple.  The  temperance  of  habit  and  orderliness 
of  life  which  Wisdom  requires  of  her  children  are  the 
first  conditions  of  vitality.  They  who  seek  health  as 
the  first  consideration  become  valetudinarians  and  find 
neither  health  nor  happiness ;  but  they  who  diligently 
follow  the  law  of  God  and  the  impulse  of  His  Spirit 
find  that  health  has  come  to  them,  as  it  were,  by  a  side 
wind.  The  peace  of  mind,  the  cheerfulness  of  temper, 
the  transfer  of  all  anxiety  from  the  human  spirit  to  the 
strong  Spirit  of  God,  are  very  favourable  to  longevity. 
Insurance  societies  have  made  this  discovery,  and 
actuaries  will  tell  you  that  in  a  very  literal  way  the 
children  of  God  possess  the  earth,  while  the  wicked  are 
cut  off. 

Yet  no  one  thinks  of  measuring  life  only  by  days 
and  years.  To  live  long  with  the  constant  feeling  that 
life  is  not  worth  living,  or  to  live  long  with  the  con- 
stant apprehension  of  death,  must  be  counted  as  a 
small  and  empty  life.  Now,  it  is  the  chief  blessedness 
in  the  lot  of  the  children  of  light  that  each  day  is  a  full, 
rich  day,  unmarred  by  recollections,  unshadowed  by 
apprehensions.  Each  day  is  distinctly  worth  living ;  it 
has  its  own  exquisite  lessons  of  cloud  or  sunshine,  its 
own  beautiful  revelations  of  love,  and  pity,  and  hope. 
Time  does  not  hang  heavily  on  the  hands,  nor  yet  is  its 
hurried  flight  a  cause  of  vain  regret ;  for  it  has  accom- 
plished that  for  which  it  was  sent,  and  by  staying  longer 
could  not  accomplish  more.  And  if,  after  all,  God  has 
appointed  but  a  few  years  for  His  child's  earthly  life,  that 
is  not  to  be  regretted  ;  the  only  ground  for  sorrow  would 

the  bones  supple,  as  opposed  to  the  dryness  which  is  produced  by 
senility  or  disease. 


iii.  i-io.]    THE  EARTHLY  REWARDS   OF   WISDOM,  41 


be  to  live  longer  than  His  wise  love  had  decreed.  "  If 
God  thy  death  desires,"  as  St.  Genest  says  to  Adrien  in 
Rotrou's  tragedy,  "  life  has  been  long  enow."  ^ 

The  life  in  God  is  undoubtedly  a  healthy  life,  nor  is 
it  the  less  healthy  because  the  outward  man  has  to 
decay,  and  mortality  has  to  be  swallowed  up  of  life. 
From  the  standpoint  of  the  Proverbs  this  wider  appli- 
cation of  the  truth  was  not  as  yet  visible.  The  problem 
which  emerges  in  th«  book  of  Job  was  not  yet  solved. 
But  already,  as  I  think  we  shall  see,  it  was  understood 
that  the  actual  and  tangible  rewards  of  righteousness 
were  of  incomparable  price,  and  made  the  prosperity  of 
the  wicked  look  poor  and  delusive. 

(2)  But  there  is  a  second  result  of  the  right  life 
which  oi*dinary  observation  and  common  sense  may 
estimate.  Wisdom  is  very  uncompromising  in  her 
requirement  of  fair  dealing  between  man  and  man. 
She  cannot  away  with  those  commercial  practices  which 
can  only  be  described  as  devising  ''  evil  against  thy 
neighbour,"  who  "  dwelleth  securely  by  thee."-  Her 
main  economic  principle  is  this,  that  all  legitimate  trade 
is  the  mutual  advantage  of  buyer  and  seller ;  where  the 
seller  is  seeking  to  dupe  the  buyer,  and  the  buyer  is 
seeking  to  rob  the  seller,  trade  ceases,  and  the  trans- 
action is  the  mere  inworking  of  the  devil.  Wisdom  is 
quite  aware  that  by  these  ways  of  the  devil  wealth  may 
be  accumulated ;  she  is  not  blind  to  the  fact  that  the 
overreaching  spirit  of  greed  has  its  rich  and  splendid 
reward;  but  she  maintains  none  the  less  that  "the 
curse  of  the  Lord  is  in  the  house  of  the  wicked  ;  but 
He  blesseth  the  habitation  of  the  righteous."  ^ 

'  Si  ton  Dieu  vent  ta  mort,  cest  deja  trop  ve'cii. 
2  Prov.  iii.  29.  '  Prov.  iii.  33. 


42  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


It  is  a  very  impressive  experience  to  enter  the  house 
of  a  great  magnate  whose  wealth  has  been  obtained  by 
questionable  means.  The  rooms  are  beautiful ;  works 
by  the  great  masters  shed  their  radiance  of  eternal 
truth  from  the  walls ;  the  library  gleams  with  the  well- 
bound  books  of  morahsts  and  religious  teachers.  The 
sons  and  daughters  of  the  house  are  fair  and  elegant ; 
the  smile  of  prosperity  is  in  every  curtained  and  car- 
peted room,  and  seems  to  beam  out  of  every  illumi- 
nated window ;  and  yet  the  sensitive  spirit  cannot  be 
rid  of  the  idea  that  '^  the  curse  of  the  Lord  is  in  the 
house." 

On  the  other  hand,  the  honourable  man  whose  paths 
have  been  directed  by  the  Lord,  no  matter  whether  he 
be  wealthy  or  merely  in  receipt,  as  the  result  of  a  life's 
labour,  of  his  'Maily  bread,"  has  a  blessing  in  his 
house.  Men  trust  him  and  honour  him.-^  His  wealth 
flows  as  a  fertilizing  stream,  or  if  it  run  dry,  his  friends, 
who  love  him  for  himself,  make  him  feel  that  it  was  a 
good  thing  to  lose  it  in  order  to  find  them.  In  propor- 
tion as  the  fierce  struggle  of  competition  has  made  the 
path  of  fair  deahng  more  difficult,  they  who  walk  in  it 
are  the  more  honoured  and  loved.  Nowhere  does 
Wisdom  smile  more  graciously  or  open  her  hand  to 
bless  more  abundantly,  than  in  the  later  years  of  a 
Hfe  which  has  in  its  earher  days  been  exposed,  and 
has  offered  a  successful  resistance,  to  the  strong  tempta- 
tions of  unrighteous  gain. 

(3)  Further,  Wisdom  commands  not  only  justice,  but 
generosity.  She  requires  her  children  to  yield  the 
first-fruits  of  all  their  possessions  to  the  Lord,  and  to 

'  Cf.  xii.  8,  *'  A  man  shall  be  commended  according  to  his  wisdom  : 
but  he  that  is  of  a  perverse  heart.shall'be  despised." 


iii.  i-io.]    THE  EARTHLY  REWARDS  OF  WISDOM.  43 

look  tenderly  upon  His  poor.  "  Withhold  not  good 
from  them  to  whom  it  is  due,  when  it  is  in  the  power 
of  thine  hand  to  do  it.  Say  not  unto  thy  neighbour, 
Go,  and  come  again,  and  to-morrow  I  will  give  ;  when 
thou  hast  it  by  thee."  ^  And  the  teaching  of  experience 
is  that  those  who  act  upon  this  precept  purchase  to 
themselves  a  good  possession.  The  main  value  of  the 
Mammon  of  unrighteousness  is,  as  our  Lord  says,  to 
make  to  ourselves  friends  with  it,  friends  who  shall 
receive  us  into  the  everlasting  habitations.  The  money 
we  spend  upon  our  own  pleasures,  and  to  promote  our 
own  interests,  is  spent  and  gone ;  but  the  money  given 
with  an  open  hand  to  those  poor  children  of  God,  to 
whom  it  is  strictly  due,  is  not  spent  at  all,  but  laid  up 
in  the  most  secure  of  banks.  There  is  no  source  of  joy 
in  this  present  world  to  be  compared  with  the  loving 
gratitude  of  the  poor  whom  you  have  lovingly  helped. 
Strangely  enough,  men  will  spend  much  to  obtain  a 
title  which  carries  no  honour  with  it,  forgetting  that  the 
same  money  given  to  the  needy  and  the  suffering 
purchases  the  true  honour,  which  gives  the  noblest  title. 
For  we  are  none  of  us  so  stupid  as  to  think  that  the 
empty  admiration  of  the  crowd  is  so  rich  in  blessing  as 
the  heartfelt  love  of  the  few. 

But  in  enumerating  these  external  results  of  right 
living  we  have  only  touched  incidentally  upon  the 
deeper  truths  which  lie  at  the  root  of  it.  It  is  time  to 
look  at  these. 

God  is  necessarily  so  much  to  men,  men  are  neces- 
sarily so  completely  bereft  without  Him,  that  clear 
vision  and  strong  action  are  utterly  impossible  apart 
from  a  humble  dependence  upon  Him.     The  beginning 

'   Prov.  iii.  27,  28. 


44  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

of  all  wisdom  is,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  recognition 
of  God,  in  personal  submission  to  Him,  in  diligent 
obedience  to  all  His  directions.  This  appears,  before 
we  reflect,  to  be  a  mere  truism  ;  when  we  have  reflected, 
it  proves  to  be  a  great  revelation.  We  do  not  at  first 
see  what  is  meant  by  trusting  in  the  Lord  with  all 
our  heart ;  we  confuse  it  with  that  tepid,  conventional 
relation  to  God  which  too  frequently  passes  current  for 
faith.  We  do  not  readily  apprehend  what  is  implied 
in  acknowledging  God  in  all  our  ways ;  we  suppose 
that  it  only  means  a  general  professing  and  calling 
ourselves  Christians.  Consequently,  many  of  us  who 
believe  that  we  trust  in  the  Lord,  yet  lean  habitually 
and  confidently  upon  our  own  understanding,  and  are 
even  proud  of  doing  so ;  we  are  wise  in  our  own  eyes 
long  after  our  folly  has  become  apparent  to  every  one 
else ;  we  resent  with  a  vehemence  of  righteous  indigna- 
tion any  imputation  upon  the  soundness  of  our  judgment. 
The  very  tone  of  mock  humility  in  which  we  say,   *^  I 

may  be  wrong,  but "  shows  that  we  are  putting  a 

case  which  seems  to  us  practically  impossible.  Con- 
sequently, while  we  think  that  we  are  acknowledging 
God  in  all  our  ways.  He  does  not  direct  our  paths  ; 
indeed,  we  never  gave  Him  an  opportunity.  From  first 
to  last  we  directed  them  ourselves.  Let  us  frankly 
acknowledge  that  we  do  not  really  believe  in  God's 
detailed  concern  with  the  affairs  of  the  individual  life ; 
that  we  do  not,  therefore,  commit  our  way  with  an 
absolute  surrender  into  His  hand  ;  that  we  do  not  think 
of  submitting  to  His  disposal  the  choice  of  our  profes- 
sion, the  choice  of  our  partner  in  life,  the  choice  of  our 
place  of  residence,  the  choice  of  our  style  of  living,  the 
choice  of  our  field  of  public  service,  the  choice  of  our 


iii.  i-io.]    THE  EARTHLY  REWARDS   OF  WISDOM.  45 

scale  of  giving.  Let  us  confess  that  we  settled  all  these 
things  in  implicit  and  unquestioning  reliance  upon  our 
own  understanding. 

I  speak  only  in  wide  and  fully  admitted  generalities. 
If  Christians  as  a  whole  had  really  submitted  their  lives 
in  every  detail  to  God,  do  you  suppose  that  there  would 
be  something  like  fifty  thousand  Christian  ministers  and 
ten  times  that  number  of  Christian  workers  at  home, 
while  scarcely  a  twentieth  of  that  number  have  gone 
out  from  us  to  labour  abroad  ?  If  Christians  had  really 
submitted  their  lives  to  God,  would  there  have  been 
these  innumerable  wretched  marriages — man  and  wife 
joined  together  by  no  spiritual  tie,  but  by  the  caprice 
of  fancy  or  the  exigencies  of  social  caste  ?  If  Christians 
had  really  asked  God  to  guide  them,  meaning  what  they 
said,  would  all  the  rich  be  found  in  districts  together, 
while  all  the  poor  are  left  to  perish  in  other  districts 
apart  ?  If  Christians  had  really  accepted  God's  direc- 
tion, would  they  be  living  in  princely  luxury  while  the 
heathen  world  is  crying  for  the  bread  of  life  ?  would 
they  be  spending  their  strength  on  personal  aims  while 
the  guidance  of  social  and  political  affairs  is  left  in  the 
hands  of  the  self-interested  ?  would  they  be  giving  such 
a  fragment  of  their  wealth  to  the  direct  service  of  the 
Kingdom  ©f  God  ? 

We  may  answer  very  confidently  that  the  life  actually 
being  lived  by  the  majority  of  Christian  people  is  not 
the  result  of  God  directing  their  paths,  but  simply  comes 
from  leaning  on  their  own  understanding.  And  what 
a  sorrowful  result ! 

But  in  face  of  this  apostasy  of  life  and  practice,  we 
can  still  joyfully  point  to  the  fact  that  they  who  do 
entirely  renounce  their  own  judgment,  who  are  small 


46  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

in  their  own  eyes,  and  who,  with  their  whole  heart 
trusting  Him,  acknowledge  Him  in  all  their  ways,  find 
their  lives  running  over  with  blessing,  and  become  the 
means  of  incalculable  good  to  the  world  and  to  them- 
selves. It  would  not  be  easy  to  make  plain  or  even 
credible,  to  those  who  have  never  trusted  in  God,  how 
this  guidance  and  direction  are  given.  Not  by  mira- 
culous signs  or  visible  interpositions,  not  by  voices 
speaking  from  heaven,  nor  even  by  messages  from 
human  lips,  but  by  ways  no  less  distinct  and  infinitely 
more  authoritative,  God  guides  men  with  His  eye  upon 
them,  tells  them,  "  This  is  the  way ;  walk  ye  in  it,"  and 
whispers  to  them  quite  intelligibly  when  they  turn  to 
the  right  hand  or  the  left.  With  a  noble  universality  of 
language,  this  text  says  nothing  of  Urim  or  Thummim, 
of  oracle  or  seer,  of  prophet  or  book  :  "  He  shall  direct 
thy  paths."  ^  That  is  enough  ;  the  method  is  left  open 
to  the  wisdom  and  love  of  Him  who  directs.  There  is 
something  even  misleading  in  saying  much  about  the 
methods ;  to  set  limits  to  God's  revelations,  as  Gideon 
did,  is  unworthy  of  the  faith  which  has  become  aware 
of  God  as  the  actual  and  living  Reality,  compared  with 
whom  all  other  realities  are  but  shadows.  Our  Lord 
did  not  follow  the  guidance  of  His  Father  by  a  mechani- 
cal method  of  signs,  but  by  a  more  intimate  and  imme- 
diate perception  of  His  will.  When  Jesus  promised 
us  the  Spirit  as  an  indwelling  and  abiding  presence 
He  clearly  intimated  that  the  Christian  life  should  be 
maintained  by  the  direct  action  of  God  upon  the  several 
faculties  of  the  mind,  stimulating  the  memory,  quicken- 
ing the  perception  of  truth,  as  well  as  working  on  the 
conscience  and  opening  the  channels  of  prayer.     When 

*  Prov.  iii.  6. 


iii.  i-io.]    THE  EARTHLY  REWARDS   OF  WISDOM.  47 

we  wait  for  signs  we  show  a  defect  of  faith.  True  trust 
ill  our  Heavenly  Father  rests  in  the  absolute  assurance 
that  He  will  make  the  path  plain,  and  leave  us  in  no 
uncertainty  about  His  will.  To  doubt  that  He  speaks 
inwardly  and  controls  us,  even  when  we  are  unconscious 
of  His  control,  is  to  doubt  Him  altogether. 

When  a  few  years  have  been  passed  in  humble  de- 
pendence on  God,  it  is  then  possible  to  look  back  and 
see  with  astonishing  clearness  how  real  and  decisive 
the  leadings  of  the  Spirit  have  been.  There  were 
moments  when  two  alternatives  were  present,  and  we 
were  tempted  to  decide  on  the  strength  of  our  own 
understanding ;  but  thanks  be  to  His  name,  we  com- 
mitted it  to  Him.  We  stepped  forward  then  in  the 
darkness ;  we  deserted  the  way  which  seemed  most 
attractive,  and  entered  the  narrow  path  which  was 
shrouded  in  mist.  We  knew  He  was  leading  us,  but 
we  could  not  see.  Now  we  see,  and  we  cannot  speak 
our  praise.  Our  life,  we  find,  is  all  a  plan  of  God,  and 
He  conceals  it  from  us,  as  if  on  purpose  to  evoke  our 
trust,  and  to  secure  that  close  and  personal  communion 
which  the  uncertainty  renders  necessary. 

Are  you  suspicious  of  the  Inward  Light,  as  it  is 
called  ?  Does  it  seem  to  open  up  endless  possibilities 
of  self-delusion  ?  Are  you  disgusted  with  those  who 
follow  their  own  wilful  way,  and  seek  a  sanction  for 
it  by  calling  it  the  leading  of  God  ?  You  will  find  that 
the  error  has  arisen  from  not  trusting  the  Lord  "  with 
the  whole  heart,"  or  from  not  acknowledging  Him  "  in 
all  ways."  The  eye  has  not  been  single,  and  the 
darkness  therefore  has  been,  as  our  Lord  declares  that 

it  would  be,  dense. ^      The  remedy  is  not  to  be  found 

> 

*  Matt.  vi.  22. 


48  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

in  leaning  more  on  our  own  understanding,  but  rather 
in  leaning  less.  Wisdom  calls  for  a  certain  absolute- 
ness in  all  our  relations  to  God,  a  fearless,  unreserved, 
and  constantly  renewed  submission  of  heart  to  Him. 
Wisdom  teaches  that  in  His  will  is  our  peace,  and  that 
His  will  is  learnt  by  practical  surrender  to  His  ways 
and  commandments. 

Now,  is  it  not  obvious  that  w^hile  the  external 
results  of  wisdom  are  great  and  marked,  this  inward 
result,  which  is  the  spring  of  them  all,  is  more  blessed 
than  any  ?  The  laws  which  govern  the  universe  are 
the  laws  of  God.  The  Stoic  philosophy  demanded  a  life 
according  to  Nature.  That  is  not  enough,  for  by  Nature 
is  meant  God's  will  for  the  inanimate  or  non-moral 
creation.  Where  there  is  freedom  of  the  will,  existence 
must  not  be  "  according  to  Nature,"  but  according  to 
God ;  that  is  to  say,  life  must  be  lived  in  obedience  to 
God's  laws  for  human  life.  The  inorganic  world  moves 
in  ordered  response  to  God's  will.  We,  as  men,  have 
to  choose ;  we  have  to  discover ;  we  have  to  interpret. 
Woe  to  us  if  we  choose  amiss,  for  then  we  are  undone. 
Woe  to  us  if  we  do  not  understand,  but  in  a  brutish 
way  follow  the  ordinances  of  death  instead  of  the  way 
of  life  ! 

Now,  the  supreme  bliss  of  the  heavenly  wisdom  is 
that  it  leads  us  into  this  detailed  obedience  to  the  law 
which  is  our  life  ;  it  sets  us  under  the  immediate  and 
unbroken  control  of  God.  Well  may  it  be  said,  ^'  Happy 
is  the  man  that  findeth  wisdom,  and  the  man  that  getteth 
understanding.  For  the  merchandise  of  it  is  better  than 
the  merchandise  of  silver,  and  the  gain  thereof  than  fine 
gold.     She  is  more  precious  than  rubies."^     And  yet 


Prov.  iii.  13-15. 


iii.  i-io.]    THE  EARTHLY  REWARDS   OF   WISDOM.  49 


rubies  are  very  precious.  I  learn  that  the  valley  in  Bur- 
mah  where  the  most  perfect  rubies  in  the  world  are  found 
is  situated  four  thousand  five  hundred  feet  above  the 
sea  level,  in  a  range  of  mountainous  spurs  about  eighty 
miles  due  north  of  Mandalay  ;  but  owing  to  the  difficult 
nature  of  the  intervening  ground,  the  valley  can  only 
be  reached  by  a  circuitous  journey  of  some  two  hundred 
miles,  which  winds  through  malarious  jungles  and  over 
arduous  mountain  passes.  An  eminent  jewellers'  firm  is 
about  to  explore  the  Valley  of  Rubies,  though  it  is  quite 
uncertain  whether  the  stones  may  not  be  exhausted. 
Wisdom  is  "  more  precious  than  rubies,  and  none  of  the 
things  thou  canst  desire  are  to  be  compared  unto  her." 
To  know  the  secret  of  the  Lord,  to  walk  in  this 
world  not  guideless,  but  led  by  the  Lord  of  life,  to 
approach  death  itself  not  fearful,  but  in  the  hands  of 
that  Infinite  Love  for  whom  death  does  not  exist, 
surely  this  is  worth  more  than  the  gold  and  precious 
stones  which  belong  only  to  the  earth  and  are  earthy. 
This  wisdom  is  laden  with  riches  which  cannot  be  com- 
puted in  earthly  treasures;  "she  is  a  tree  of  life  to 
them  that  lay  hold  upon  her :  and  happy  is  every  one 
that  retaineth  her."^  The  creation  itself,  in  its  vast 
and  infinite  perfections,  with  all  its  aeonian  changes, 
and  all  the  mysterious  ministries  which  order  its  details 
and  maintain  its  activities,  comes  from  that  same 
wisdom  which  controls  the  right  human  life.  The 
man,  therefore,  who  is  led  in  the  ways  of  wisdom, 
trusting  wholly  to  God,  is  in  harmony  with  that  great 
universe  of  which  he  forms  an  intelligent  part :  he  may 
lie  down  without  being  afraid ;  he  may  walk  securely 


Prov.  iii.  18. 


so  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

without  stumbling ;  no  sudden  fear  can  assail  him ;  all 
the  creatures  of  God  are  his  sisters  and  his  brothers ; 
even  Sister  Death,  as  St.  Francis  used  to  say,  is  a 
famihar  and  a  friend  to  him. 

We  have  been  dwelling  upon  the  outward  results  of 
Heavenly  Wisdom — the  health,  the  prosperity,  the 
friends,  the  favour  with  God  and  man  which  come  to 
those  who  possess  her.  We  have  been  led  to  seek  out 
the  secret  of  her  peace  in  the  humble  surrender  of  the 
will  to  its  rightful  Lord.  But  there  is  a  caution  needed, 
a  truth  which  has  already  occurred  to  the  author  of 
this  chapter.  It  is  evident  that  while  Wisdom  brings 
in  her  hand  riches  and  honour,^  health  to  the  navel, 
and  marrow  to  the  bones,^  it  will  not  be  enough  to 
judge  only  by  appearances.  As  we  have  pondered 
upon  the  law  of  Wisdom,  we  have  become  aware  that 
there  may  be  an  apparent  health  and  prosperity,  a 
bevy  of  friends,  and  a  loud-sounding  fame  which  are 
the  gift  not  of  Wisdom,  but  of  some  other  power.  It 
will  not  do,  therefore,  to  set  these  outward  things 
before  our  eyes  as  the  object  of  desire ;  it  will  not  do 
to  envy  the  possessors  of  them.^  '^  The  secret  of  the 
Lord  is  with  the  upright,"  and  it  may  often  be  that 
they  to  whom  His  secret  has  become  open  will  choose 
the  frowns  of  adversity  rather  than  the  smile  of  pros- 
perity, will  choose  poverty  rather  than  wealth,  will 
welcome  soHtude  and  contumely  down  in  the  Valley  of 
Humiliation.  For  it  is  an  open  secret,  in  the  sweet 
light  of  wisdom  it  becomes  a  self-evident  truth,  that 
"  whom  the  Lord  loveth  He  reproveth  ;  even  as  a  father 
the  son  in  whom  he  delighteth."  * 

'  Prov.  iii.  1 6.  ^  Prov.  iii.  31. 

'  Prov.  iii,  8,  *  Prov.  iii.  12. 


iii.  i-io.]    THE  EARTHLY  REWARDS   OF  WISDOM.  51 

There  is,  then,  a  certain  paradox  in  the  life  of  wisdom 
which  no  ingenuity  can  avoid.  Her  ways  are  ways  of 
pleasantness,  but  we  may  not  seek  them  because  they 
are  pleasant,  for  other  ways  are  pleasant  too,  or  seem 
to  be  so  for  a  while.  All  her  paths  are  peace,  but  we 
do  not  enter  them  to  gain  peace,  for  the  peace  comes 
often  under  the  stress  of  a  great  conflict  or  in  the 
endurance  of  a  heavy  chastening.  A  thousand  temporal 
blessings  accompany  the  entrance  into  the  narrow  way, 
but  so  far  from  seeking  them,  it  is  well-nigh  impossible 
to  start  on  the  way  unless  we  lose  sight  and  care  of 
them  altogether.  The  Divine  Wisdom  gives  us  these 
blessings  when  we  no  longer  set  our  hearts  on  them, 
because  while  we  set  our  hearts  on  them  they  are 
dangerous  to  us.  Putting  the  truth  in  the  clearest 
light  which  has  been  given  to  us,  the  light  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  we  are  called  upon  to  give  up  everything 
in  order  to  seek  first  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  and 
when  we  are  absorbed  in  that  as  our  true  object  of 
search  everything  is  given  back  to  us  a  hundredfold ; 
we  are  called  upon  to  take  up  our  cross  and  follow 
Him,  and  when  we  do  so  He  bears  the  cross  for  us  ;  we 
are  called  upon  to  take  His  yoke  upon  us  and  to  learn 
of  Him,  and  immediately  we  take  it — not  before — we 
find  that  it  is  easy.  The  wise,  loving  only  wisdom, 
find  that  they  have  inherited  glory ;  the  fools,  seeking 
only  promotion,  find  that  they  have  achieved  nothing 
but  shame. ^ 

>  Prov.  iii.  35. 


IV. 


EDUCATION:  THE  CHILD'S  THOUGHT  OF  THE  PARENT} 

"  Wisdom  doth  live  with  children  round  her  knees." 

Wordsworth. 

"  He  taught  me,  and  said  unto  me,"  etc, — Prov.  iv.  4. 

THIS  chapter  begins  with  a  charming  little  piece  of 
autobiography.  Unhappily  the  writer  is  unknown. 
That  it  was  not  Solomon  is  plain  from  the  fact  that  an 
only  son  is  speaking,  and  we  know  from  i  Chron.  iii,  5 
that  Solomon  was  not  an  only  son  of  his  mother.^  But 
the  naivetd  and  beauty  of  the  confession  are  the  same, 
whoever  was  the  speaker.  The  grateful  memories  of 
a  father's  teaching  and  of  a  mother's  tenderness  give 
point  and  force  to  the  exhortations.  "  Do  I  urge  upon 
you,  young  people,  the  claims  of  Wisdom  ?  "  the  author 
seems  to  say.  "Well  I  speak  from  experience.  My 
parents  taught  me  her  wholesome  and  pleasant  ways. 
Though  I  was  an  only  son,  they  did  not  by  a  selfish 
indulgence  allow  me  to  be  spoiled.  They  made  me 
bear  the  yoke  in  my  youth,  and  now  I  live  to  thank 
them  for  it." 

There  is  a  great  temptation  to  spoil  an  only  child,  a 

'This  subject,  which  occupies  so  large  a  part  of  the  book,  is  further 
treated  in  Lect.  XXIII. 

*  It  is  noteworthy  that  the  LXX.  in  ver.  2  seek  to  maintain  the 
Solomonic  authorship  by  deliberately  altering  the  words. 


iv.4.]  EDUCATION.  53 

temptation  which  few  are  able  to  resist.  Parents  can 
deny  themselves  everything  for  their  idol,  except  the 
pleasure  of  making  the  child  a  despot ;  they  can  endure 
any  pain  for  their  despot,  except  the  pain  of  resisting 
him  and  instructing  him.  And  accordingly  they  have 
sometimes  to  experience  the  shame  and  anguish  of  their 
children's  curses,  like  that  Carthaginian  mother,  of 
whom  it  is  related  that  her  son,  a  convicted  criminal, 
passing  to  execution,  requested  that  he  might  whisper 
something  to  her,  and,  coming  near,  bit  off  her  ear,  saying 
that  it  was  his  revenge  because  she  had  brought  him  up 
so  badly.  Very  different  are  the  feelings  of  our  author  ; 
he  owes  much  to  his  parents,  and  is  eager  to  acknow- 
ledge what  he  owes.  God  has  no  kinder  gift  to  give 
us  than  a  hallowed  home,  the  memory  of  lessons  from 
the  lips  of  father  and  mother,  the  early  impressions  of 
virtue  and  wisdom,  the  sacred  streams  which  rise  from 
that  fountainhead,  and  that  alone,  and  run  freshening 
and  singing  and  broadening  all  through  our  lives.^ 

With  this  happy  example  of  good  home  influence 
before  our  eyes,  we  will  come  to  consider  briefly  two 
points  which  are  suggested  by  it :  first,  the  importance 
of  these  early  impressions  ;  second,  the  main  features  of 
the  discipline  presented  in  the  chapter. 

I.  Not  without  reason  has  a  great  cardinal  of  the 
Roman  Church  said  that  if  he  may  have  the  children  up 
to  the  age  of  five,  he  will  not  mind  in  whose  hand  they 
may  be  afterwards ;  for  it  is  almost  impossible  to  ex- 
aggerate the  permanent  effects  of  those  first  tendencies 
impressed  on  the  soul  before  the  intellect  is  developed, 

*  Cf.  the  beautiful  family  picture  of  the  linked  and  mutually  blessed 
generations  in  the  proverb,  "Children's  children  are  the  crown  of  old 
men  ;  and  the  glory  of  children  are  their  fathers  "  (xvii.  6). 


54  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

and  while  the  soft,  plastic  nature  of  the  child  is  not  yet 
determined  in  any  particular  direction.  Things  which 
we  learn  we  can  more  or  less  unlearn,  but  things  which 
are  blended  with  the  elements  of  our  composition,  made 
parts  of  us  before  we  are  conscious  of  our  own  person- 
ality, defy  the  hand  of  time  and  the  power  of  conscious 
effort  to  eradicate  them. 

John  Paton,  that  noble  missionary  to  the  New 
Hebrides,  has  given  us  a  vivid  picture  of  his  early 
home.  It  was  a  plain  lowland  cottage,  with  its  "  but 
and  ben,"  and  between  the  two  a  small  chamber  with 
a  diminutive  window  shedding  diminutive  light  on  the 
scene.  To  this  room  the  children  saw  the  father  retire 
oftentimes  a  day,  and  shut  to  the  door  ;  they  would 
occasionally  hear  the  pathetic  pleadings  of  the  voice  that 
prayed,  and  they  learnt  to  slip  past  the  door  on  tiptoe. 
They  got  to  understand  whence  came  that  happy  light 
upon  their  father's  face ;  they  recognized  it  as  a  reflec- 
tion from  the  Divine  presence,  in  the  consciousness  of 
which  he  lived. 

Let  a  child  draw  his  first  breath  in  a  house  which 
possesses  a  sanctuary  like  that ;  let  him  come  to  know  by 
his  quick  childish  perceptions  that  there  is  in  his  home  a 
ladder  set  up  from  earth  to  heaven,  and  that  the  angels 
of  God  go  up  and  down  on  it ;  let  him  feel  the  Divine 
atmosphere  in  his  face,  the  air  all  suffused  with  heavenly 
light,  the  sweetness  and  the  calm  which  prevail  in  a 
place  where  a  constant  communion  is  maintained, — and 
in  after  years  he  will  be  aware  of  voices  which  call  and 
hands  which  reach  out  to  him  from  his  childhood,  con- 
necting him  with  heaven,  and  even  the  most  convincing 
negations  of  unbelief  will  be  powerless  to  shake  the 
faith  which  is  deep  as  the  springs  of  his  life. 


iv.4.]  EDUCATION.  55 

We  learn  to  love,  not  because  we  are  taught  to 
love,  but  by  some  contagious  influence  of  example 
or  by  some  indescribable  attraction  of  beauty.  Our 
first  love  to  Wisdom,  or,  to  use  our  modern  phrase, 
Religion,  is  won  from  us  by  living  with  those  that  love 
her.  She  stole  in  upon  us  and  captured  us  without 
any  overpowering  arguments  ;  she  was  beautiful  and 
we  felt  that  those  whom  we  loved  were  constantly  taken 
and  held  by  her  beauty.  Just  reflect  upon  this  subtle 
and  wonderful  truth.  If  my  infancy  is  spent  among 
those  whose  main  thought  is  ''  to  get  "  riches,  I  acquire 
imperceptibly  the  love  of  money.  I  cannot  rationally 
explain  my  love ;  but  it  seems  to  me  in  after  life  a 
truism,  that  money  is  the  principal  thing  ;  I  look  with 
blank  increduHty  upon  one  who  questions  this  ingrained 
truth.  But  if  in  infancy  I  live  with  those  whose  love  is 
wholly  centred  upon  Religion,  who  cherish  her  with 
unaffected  ardour  and  respond  to  her  claims  with  kind- 
ling emotion,  I  may  in  after  life  be  seduced  from  her 
holy  ways  for  awhile,  but  I  am  always  haunted  by  the 
feeling  that  I  have  left  my  first  love,  I  am  restless 
and  uneasy  until  I  can  win  back  that  "  old  bride-look 
of  earlier  days." 

Yes,  that  old  bride-look — for  religion  may  be  so 
presented  to  the  child's  heart  as  to  appear  for  ever  the 
bride  elect  of  the  soul,  from  whose  queenly  love  pro- 
motion may  be  expected,  whose  sweet  embraces  bring 
a  dower  of  honour,  whose  beautiful  fingers  twine  a 
chaplet  of  grace  for  the  head  and  set  a  crown  of  glory 
on  the  brow.^ 

The  affections   are  elicited,    and  often   permanently 

'  Prov.  iv.  8,  9. 


S6  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

fixed,  before  the  understanding  has  come  into  play.  If 
the  child's  heart  is  surrendered  to  God,  and  moulded  by 
heavenly  wisdom,  the  man  will  walk  securely;  a  certain 
trend  will  be  given  to  all  his  thoughts  ;  a  certain  in- 
stinctive desire  for  righteousness  will  be  engrafted  in  his 
nature  ;  and  an  instinctive  aversion  will  lead  him  to 
decline  the  way  of  the  wicked.-^ 

The  first  thing,  then,  is  to  give  our  children  an 
atmosphere  to  grow  up  in ;  to  cultivate  their  affections, 
and  set  their  hearts  on  the  things  eternal ;  to  make  them 
associate  the  ideas  of  wealth  and  honour,  of  beauty  and 
glory,  not  with  material  possessions,  but  with  the 
treasures  and  rewards  of  Wisdom. 

II.  But  now  comes  the  question.  What  is  to  be  the 
definite  teaching  of  the  child  ?  for  it  is  an  unfailing 
mark  of  the  parents  who  themselves  are  holy  that  they 
are  impelled  to  give  clear  and  memorable  instruction  to 
their  children.  And  this  is  where  the  great  and  con- 
stant difficulty  emerges.  If  the  hallowed  example 
would  suffice  we  might  count  the  task  comparatively 
easy.  But  some  day  the  understanding  will  begin  to 
assert  itself ;  the  desire  to  question,  to  criticise,  to  prove, 
will  awake.  And  then,  unless  the  truths  of  the  heart 
have  been  applied  to  the  conscience  in  such  a  way  as  to 
satisfy  the  reason,  there  may  come  the  desolate  time 
in  which,  while  the  habits  of  practical  life  remain  pure, 
and  the  unconscious  influence  of  early  training  con- 
tinues to  be  effective,  the  mind  is  shaken  by  doubt, 
and  the  hope  of  the  soul  is  shrouded  in  a  murky 
cloud. 

Now  the  answer  to  this  question  may  for  the  Chris- 

^  Prov.  iv.  14. 


iv.4.]  EDUCATION.  57 

tian  be  briefly  given,  Bring  your  children  to  Christ, 
teach  them  to  recognize  in  Him  their  Saviour,  and  to 
accept  Ilim  as  their  present  Lord  and  gracious  Friend. 
But  this  all-inclusive  answer  will  not  suffer  by  a  little 
expansion  on  the  lines  which  are  laid  down  in  the 
chapter  before  us.  When  Christ  is  made  unto  us 
Wisdom,  the  contents  of  Wisdom  are  not  altered,  they 
are  only  brought  within  our  reach  and  made  effectual 
in  us.  Bringing  our  children  to  Christ  will  not  merely 
consist  in  teaching  them  the  doctrine  of  salvation,  but 
it  will  include  showing  them  in  detail  what  salvation  is, 
and  the  method  of  its  realization. 

The  first  object  in  the  home  life  is  to  enable 
children  to  realize  what  salvation  is.  It  is  easy  to 
dilate  on  an  external  heaven  and  hell,  but  it  is  not  so 
easy  to  demonstrate  that  salvation  is  an  inward  state, 
resulting  from  a  spiritual  change. 

It  is  very  strange  that  Judaism  should  ever  have 
sunk  into  a  formal  religion  of  outward  observance, 
when  its  own  Wisdom  was  so  explicit  on  this  point  : 
"  My  son,  attend  to  my  words  ;  incline  thine  ear  unto 
my  sayings.  Let  them  not  depart  from  thine  eyes ; 
keep  them  /';/  the  midst  of  thine  heati.  For  they  are 
life  unto  those  that  find  them,  and  health  to  all  their 
flesh.  Keep  thy  heart  with  all  diligence  ;  for  out  of  it 
are  the  issues  of  life."  ^  The  Greek  version,  which  was 
very  generally  used  in  our  Lord's  time,  had  a  beautiful 
variation  of  this  last  clause:  "In  order  that  thy 
fountains  may  not  fail  thee,  guard  them  in  the  heart." 
It  was  after  all  but  a  new  emphasis  on  the  old  teaching 
of  the  book  of  Proverbs  when  Jesus  taught  the  necessity 

'  Prov.  iv.  20-23. 


58  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

of  heart  purity,  and  when  He  showed  that  out  of  the 
heart  come  forth  evil  thoughts,  and  all  the  things  which 
defile  a  man.^  Yet  this  lesson  of  inwardness  has 
always  been  the  most  difficult  of  all  to  learn.  Chris- 
tianity itself  has  always  been  declining  from  it  and 
falling  into  the  easier  but  futile  ways  of  externalism  ; 
and  even  Christian  homes  have  usually  failed  in  their 
influence  on  the  young  chiefly  because  their  religious 
observances  have  fallen  into  formalism,  and  while  the 
outward  conduct  has  been  regulated,  the  inner  springs 
of  action  have  not  been  touched. 

All  conduct  is  the  outcome  of  hidden  fountains.  AH 
words  are  the  expression  of  thoughts.  The  first  thing 
and  the  main  thing  is  that  the  hidden  fountains  of 
thought  and  feeling  be  pure.  The  source  of  all  our 
trouble  is  the  bitterness  of  heart,  the  envious  feeling,  the 
sudden  outbreak  of  corrupt  desire.  A  merely  outward 
salvation  would  be  of  no  avail ;  a  change  of  place,  a 
magic  formula,  a  conventional  pardon,  could  not  touch 
the  root  of  the  mischief.  "  I  wish  you  would  change 
my  heart,"  said  the  chief  Sekomi  to  Livingstone,  ^'  Give 
me  medicine  to  change  it,  for  it  is  proud,  proud  and 
angry,  angry  always."  He  would  not  hear  of  the  New 
Testament  way  of  changing  the  heart ;  he  wanted  an 
outward,  mechanical  way — and  that  way  was  not  to 
be  found.  The  child  at  first  thinks  in  the  same  way. 
Heaven  is  a  place  to  go  to,  not  a  state  to  be  in.  Hell 
is  an  outward  punishment  to  fly  from,  not  an  inward 
condition  of  the  soul.  The  child  has  to  learn  that 
searching  truth  which  Milton  tried  to  teach,  when  he 
described  Satan  in  Paradise, — 

Matt.  XV.  19. 


iv.4.]  EDUCATION.  59 

"...  within  him  hell 
He  brings,  and  round  about  him,  nor  from  hell 
One  step,  no  more  than  from  himself,  can  lly 
By  change  of  place. 

"  '  Which  way  I  fly  is  hell,' 

cries  the  miserable  being, 

'  myself  am  hell ; 
And  in  the  lowest  deep,  a  lower  deep, 
Still  threatening  to  devour  me,  opens  wide, 
To  which  the  hell  I  suffer  seems  a  heaven.  *  "  ' 

We  are  tempted  in  dealing  with  children  to  train  them 
only  in  outward  habits,  and  to  forget  the  inward  sources 
which  are  always  gathering  and  forming  ;  hence  we 
often  teach  them  to  avoid  the  lie  on  the  tongue,  to  put 
away  from  them  the  froward  mouth  and  perverse  lips,^ 
and  yet  leave  them  with  the  lies  in  the  soul,  the  deep 
inward  un veracities  which  are  their  ruin.  We  often 
succeed  in  bringing  them  up  as  respectable  and  decorous 
members  of  society,  and  yet  leave  them  a  prey  to 
secret  sins ;  they  are  tormented  by  covetousness  which 
is  idolatry,  by  impurity,  and  by  all  kinds  of  envious 
and  malignant  passions. 

There  is  something  even  ghastly  in  the  very  virtues 
which  are  sometimes  displayed  in  a  highly  civilised 
society  like  ours.  We  perceive  what  appear  to  be 
virtues,    but    we    are   haunted    by    an    uncomfortable 

'  Paradise  Lost,  iv.  20,  etc.,  and  75,     Cf.  also  ix.  120  : — 

"  And  the  more  I  see 
Pleasures  about  me,  so  much  more  I  feel 
Torment  within  me,  as  from  hateful  siege 
Of  contraries.     All  good  to  me  becomes 
Bane,  and  in  heaven  much  worse  would  be  my  state." 
-'  Prov.  iv.  24. 


6o  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

misgiving  that  they  are  virtues  only  in  appearance  ;  they 
seem  to  have  no  connection  with  the  heart ;  they  never 
seem  to  bubble  up  from  irrepressible  fountains  ;  they 
do  not  overflow.  There  is  charity,  but  it  is  the  charity 
only  of  the  subscription  list ;  there  is  pity,  but  it  is  the 
pity  only  of  conventional  humanitarianism  ;  there  is 
the  cold  correctness  of  conduct,  or  the  formal  accuracy 
of  speech,  but  the  purity  seems  to  be  prudery  because 
it  is  only  a  concession  to  the  conventional  sentiments 
of  the  hour,  and  the  truthfulness  seems  to  be  a  lie 
because  its  very  exactness  seems  to  come,  not  from 
springs  of  truth,  but  only  from  an  artificial  habit. 

We  are  frequently  bound  to  notice  a  religion  of  a 
similar  kind.  It  is  purely  mimetic.  It  is  explained  on 
the  same  principle  as  the  assimilation  of  the  colours  of 
animals  to  the  colours  of  their  environment.  It  is  the 
unconscious  and  hypocritical  instinct  of  self-preservation 
in  a  presumably  religious  society,  where  not  to  seem 
religious  would  involve  a  loss  of  caste.  It  may  be 
regarded  then  as  the  first  essential  lesson  which  is  to 
be  impressed  on  the  mind  of  a  child, — the  lesson  coming 
next  after  the  unconscious  influences  of  example,  and 
before  all  dogmatic  religious  teaching, — that  righteous- 
ness is  the  condition  of  salvation,  righteousness  of  the 
heart ;  that  the  outward  seeming  goes  for  nothing  at 
all,  but  that  God  with  a  clear  and  quiet  eye  gazes  down 
into  the  hidden  depths,  and  considers  whether  the 
fountains  there  are  pure  and  perennial. 

The  second  thing  to  be  explained  and  enforced  is 
singleness  oj  heart,  directness  and  consistency  of  aim ; 
by  which  alone  the  inward  life  can  be  shaped  to 
virtuous  ends  :  "  Let  thine  eyes  look  right  on,  and  let 
thine  eyelids  look  straight  before  thee.     Make  level  the 


iv.4]  EDUCATION.  6i 

path  of  thy  feet,  and  let  all  thy  ways  be  established. 
Turn  not  to  the  right  hand  nor  to  the  left."  ^  As  our 
Lord  puts  it,  If  thine  eye  be  single,  thy  whole  body 
shall  be  full  of  light.  This  precept  has  frequently  been 
given  in  the  interests  of  worldly  wisdom.  The  boy  is 
told  that  if  he  means  to  get  on  he  must  concentrate 
his  thoughts  and  refuse  to  let  any  of  the  seductions 
around  him  divert  his  attention.  Singleness  of  eye 
may  be  the  most  ruinous  of  evils — if  a  man  has  only  a 
single  eye  to  his  own  advantage,  and  pursues  nothing 
but  his  own  pleasure.  The  precept  is  given  here 
however  in  the  interests  of  heavenly  wisdom,  and 
there  is  much  to  be  said  for  the  view  that  only  the 
truly  religious  mind  can  be  quite  single-eyed.  Selfish- 
ness, though  it  seems  to  be  an  undivided  aim,  is  really 
a  manifold  of  tumultuous  and  conflicting  passions.  He 
onl}^,  strictly  speaking,  has  one  desire,  whose  one 
desire  is  God.  The  way  of  wisdom  is  after  all  the  only 
way  which  has  no  bifurcations.  The  man  who  has  a 
single  eye  to  his  own  interest  may  find  before  long 
that  he  has  missed  the  way  :  he  pushes  eagerly  on, 
but  he  flounders  ever  deeper  in  the  mire  ;  for  though 
he  did  not  turn  to  the  right  hand  nor  to  the  left,  he 
never  all  the  time  removed  his  foot  from  evil.^ 

The  right  life  then  is  a  steady  progress  undiverted 
by  the  alluring  sights  and  sounds  which  appeal  to 
the  senses.^  '*  Look  not  round  about  thee,"  says 
Ecclesiasticus,'*   "in    the    streets    of   the    city,    neither 

'  Prov.  iv.  25-27. 
'  Prov.  iv.  27. 

'  Cf.  xvii.  24,  "Wisdom  is  before  the'face  of  him  that  hath  under- 
standing ;  but  the  eyes  of  a  fool  are  in  the  ends  of  the  earth." 
*  Ecclcs.  ix.   7. 


62  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

wander  thou  in  the  solitary  places  thereof."  We  are 
to  learn  that  the  way  goes  through  Vanity  Fair,  but 
admits  of  no  divergences  into  its  tempting  booths  or 
down  its  alluring  alleys ;  the  lust  of  the  eye,  the  lust 
of  the  flesh,  the  vainglory  of  life,  are  not  to  distract 
the  mind  which  has  but  one  purpose  in  view.  The 
path  is  to  be  kept  level  ;  ^  as  we  should  say,  an  even 
tenor  is  to  be  preserved  ;  we  are  to  follow  the  plain 
unexciting  path  of  duty,  the  beaten  track  of  sober 
Tightness.  For  while  it  is  the  mark  of  all  unhallowed 
ways  that  they  plunge  up  and  down  from  despondency 
to  wild  elation,  from  giddy  raptures  to  heartstricken 
depression,  it  is  the  sure  sign  of  God's  hand  in  our 
life  when  the  paths  are  made  level. ^  Ah  those  tempt- 
ing ways,  on  which  shine  the  false  lights  of  imagined 
duty,  of  refined  selfishness,  or  of  gilded  sensuality. 
Surely  it  is  the  result  of  Wisdom,  the  gift  of  God's 
grace,  to  keep  the  eyes  '^  looking  right  on." 

But  it  is  time  to  sum  up.  Here  is  a  great  contrast 
between  those  whose  early  training  has  been  vicious 
or  neglected,  and  those  who  have  been  "taught  in  the 
way  of  wisdom,  led  in  paths  of  uprightness."  It  is  a 
contrast  which  should  constantly  be  present  to  the 
eyes  of  parents  with  a  warning  and  an  encouragement. 
The  unfortunate  child  whose  infancy  was  passed  in  the 
midst  of  baleful  example,  whose  heart  received  no  in- 
struction from  parents'  lips,  grows  up  like  one  stumbling 
in  the  dark,  and  the  darkness  deepens  as  he  advances ; 
observers  cannot  tell — he  himself  cannot  tell — what  it 
is  at  which  he  stumbles.^  There  is  the  old  ingrained 
vice  which   comes   out   again   and  again   after    every 

'  Prov.  iv.  26.  2  Prov.  v.  21.  ^  Prov.  iv.  19. 


iv.4.]  EDUCATION.  63 

attempted  reformation  ;  there  is  the  old  shuffling 
habit ;  there  is  the  old  unhallowed  set  of  the  thoughts 
and  the  tastes  ;  there  is  the  old  incurable  pharisaism, 
with  its  tendency  to  shift  all  blame  on  to  other  people's 
shoulders.  It  is  all  like  the  damp  in  the  walls  of  an 
ill-built  house.  In  dry  weather  there  are  only  the 
stains,  but  those  stains  are  the  prophecy  of  what  will 
be  again  when  the  wet  weather  returns.  The  corrupt 
ways  have  become  a  second  nature  ;  they  are  as  sleep 
and  food  to  the  wretched  creature  ;  to  abstain  from 
iniquity  creates  the  restlessness  of  insomnia  ;  if  he  has 
not  been  spreading  an  influence  of  evil  and  leading 
others  astray,  he  feels  as  if  he  had  been  deprived 
of  his  daily  food,  and  he  is  consumed  with  a  fiery 
thirst.^  Even  when  such  an  one  is  genuinely  born 
again,  the  old  hideous  habits  will  appear  like  seams 
in  the  character ;  and  temptations  will  send  the  flush 
along  the  tell-tale  scars. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  life  which  starts  from  the 
sweet  examples  of  a  hallowed  home,  and  all  its  timely 
chastisements  and  discipline,  presents  a  most  en- 
trancing history.  At  first  there  is  much  which  is 
difficult  to  bear,  much  against  which  the  flesh  revolts. 
The  influences  of  purity  are  cold  like  the  early  dawn, 
and  the  young  child's  spirit  shrinks  and  shivers  ; 
but  with  every  step  along  the  levelled  road  the  light 
broadens  and  the  air  becomes  warmer, — the  dawn  shines 
more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day.^  As  the  character 
forms,  as  the  habits  become  fixed,  as  the  power  of 
resistance  increases,  a  settled  strength  and  a  lasting 
peace  gladden  the  life.     The  rays  of  heavenly  wisdom 


'  Prov.  iv.  16,  17.  ^  Prov.  iv.  18,  margin. 


64  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

not  only  shine  on  the  face,  but  suffuse  the  very  texture 
of  the  being,  so  that  the  whole  body  is  full  of  light. 
Eventually  it  begins  to  appear  that  truth  and  purity, 
pity  and  charity,  have  become  instinctive.  Like  a  well- 
discipHned  army,  they  spring  at  once  into  the  ranks, 
and  are  ready  for  service  even  on  a  surprise.  The 
graces  of  holy  living  come  welling  up  from  those  un- 
tainted inner  springs,  and,  be  the  surroundings  ever  so 
dry,  the  fountains  fail  not.  The  habit  of  single-eyed 
devotion  to  right  avails  even  where  there  is  no  time 
for  reflection  ;  more  and  more  the  seductions  of  the 
senses  lose  their  point  of  attack  in  this  disciphned 
spirit.  There  is  a  freedom  in  the  gait,  for  hoHness  has 
eeased  to  be  a  toilsome  calculation, — the  steps  of  the 
spiritual  man  are  not  straitened.  There  is  a  swiftness 
in  all  action, — the  feet  are  shod  with  a  joyous  and 
confident  preparation,  for  the  fear  of  stumbling  is  gone.^ 
With  daily  growing  gratitude  and  veneration  does 
such  an  one  look  back  upon  the  early  home  of  piety 
and  tenderness. 

'  Prov.  IV.  12. 


V. 

THE    WAYS    AND    ISSUES    OF  SIN. 

"His  own  iniquities  shall  take  the  wicked, 
And  he  shall  be  holden  with  the  cords  of  his  sin. 
He  shall  die  for  lack  of  instruction  ; 
And  in  the  greatness  of  his  folly  he  shall  go  astray." 

— Prov,  v.  22,  23. 

IT  is  the  task  of  Wisdom,  or,  as  we  should  say,  of 
the  Christian  teacher, — and  a  most  distasteful  task 
it  is, — to  lay  bare  with  an  unsparing  hand  (i)  the 
fascinations  of  sin,  and  (2)  the  deadly  entanglements 
in  which  the  sinner  involves  himself, — ''  there  is  a  way 
which  seemeth  right  unto  a  man,  but  the  end  thereof 
are  the  ways  of  death."  ^  It  would  be  pleasanter,  no 
doubt,  to  avoid  the  subject,  or  at  least  to  be  content  with 
a  general  caution  and  a  general  denunciation  ;  one  is 
tempted  to  take  refuge  in  the  opinion  that  to  mention 
evils  of  a  certain  kind  with  any  particularity  is  likely 
to  suggest  rather  than  to  suppress,  to  aggravate  rather 
than  to  lessen,  them.  But  Wisdom  is  not  afraid  of 
plain  speaking ;  she  sees  that  shame  is  the  first  result 
of  the  Fall,  and  behind  the  modest  veil  of  shame  the 
devil  works  bravely.  There  is  a  frankness  and  a 
fulness  in  the  delineations  of  this  chapter  and  of  chapter 

'  Prov.  xiv.  12. 


66  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

seven  which  modern  taste  would  condemn ;  but  the 
motive  cannot  be  mistaken.  HoHness  describes  the 
ways  of  sin  in  detail  to  create  a  horror  and  a  hatred 
of  them ;  she  describes  exactly  what  is  within  the 
tempting  doors, — all  the  glamour,  all  the  softness,  all  the 
luxur}^,  all  the  unhallowed  raptures, — and  shows  dis- 
tinctly how  these  chambers  are  on  the  incline  of  death, 
in  order  that  curiosity,  the  mother  of  prurience,  may 
be  stifled,  and  the  unwary  may  be  content  to  remove 
his  way  far  from  the  temptress,  and  to  come  not  nigh 
the  door  of  her  house/ 

But  this,  it  may  be  said,  is  the  plea  urged  by  a 
certain  school  of  modern  Realism  in  Art.  Let  us 
depict — such  is  the  argument — in  all  its  hideous  literal- 
ness  the  sinful  life,  and  leave  it  to  work  its  own  im- 
pressions, and  to  act  as  a  warning  to  those  who  are 
entering  on  the  seductive  but  dangerous  ways.  From 
this  principle — so  it  may  be  said — has  sprung  the 
school  of  writers  at  whose  head  is  M.  Zola.  Yes,  but 
to  counteract  vice  by  depicting  it  is  so  hazardous  a 
venture  that  none  can  do  it  successfully  who  is  not 
fortified  in  virtue  himself,  and  constantly  led,  directed, 
and  restrained  by  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God.  Just  in 
this  point  lies  the  great  difference  between  the  realism 
of  the  Bible  and  the  realism  of  the  French  novel.  In 
the  first  the  didactic  purpose  is  at  once  declared,  and 
the  writer  moves  with  swift  precision  through  the 
fascinating  scene,  to  lift  the  curtain  and  show  death 
beyond ;  in  the  last  the  motive  is  left  doubtful,  and 
the  writer  moves  slowly,  observantly,  even  gloatingly, 
through    the  abomination  and    the  filth,  without   any 

»  Prov.  V.  8. 


V.22, 23.]        THE   WAYS  AND  ISSUES   OF  SIN.  67 

clear  conception  of  the  Divine  Eye  which  watches,  or 
of  the  Divine  Voice  which  condemns.^ 

There  is  a  corresponding  difference  in  the  effects  of 
the  two.  Few  men  could  study  these  chapters  in  the 
book  of  Proverbs  without  experiencing  a  healthy  revolt 
against  the  iniquity  which  is  unveiled  ;  while  few  men 
can  read  the  works  of  modern  realism  without  contract- 
ing a  certain  contamination,  without  a  dimming  of  the 
moral  sense  and   a  weakening  of  the  purer  impulses. 

We  need  not  then  complain  that  the  powers  of 
imaginative  description  are  summoned  to  heighten  the 
picture  of  the  temptation,  because  the  same  powers  are 
used  with  constraining  effect  to  paint  the  results  of 
yielding  to  it.  We  need  not  regret  that  the  Temptress, 
Mistress  Folly,  as  she  is  called,  is  allowed  to  utter  all 
her  blandishments  in  full,  to  weave  her  spells  before 
our  eyes,  because  the  voice  of  Wisdom  is  in  this  way 
made  more  impressive  and  convincing.  Pulpit  in- 
vectives against  sin  often  lose  half  their  terrible  cogency 
because  we  are  too  prudish  to  describe  the  sins  which 
we  denounce. 

I.   The  glamours   of  sin   and  the  safeguard  against 

*  The  Laureate  has  touched  with  stern  satire  on  this  debased  modern 
Realism : — 

"Author,  atheist,  essayist,  novelist,  realist,  rhymester,  play  your  part. 
Paint  the  mortal  shame  of  Nature  with  the  living  hues  of  Art. 
Rip  your  brothers'  vices  open,  strip  your  own  foul  passions  bare, 
Down  with  Reticence,  down  with  Reverence — forward — naked — let 

them  stare ! 
Feed  the  budding  rose  of  boyhood  with  the  drainage  of  your  sewer. 
Send  the  drain  into  the  fountain  lest  the  stream  should  issue  pure. 
Set  the  maiden  fancies  wallowing  in  the  troughs  of  Zolaism, 
Forvvard,    forward, — aye   and    backward,  downward  too  into  the 
abysm  ! " 

—  The  new  Locksley  Hall. 


68  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

them. — There  is  no  sin  which  affords  so  vivid  an 
example  of  seductive  attraction  at  the  beginning,  and 
of  hopeless  misery  at  the  end,  as  that  of  unlawful  love. 
The  illustration  which  we  generally  prefer,  that  drawn 
from  the  abuse  of  alcoholic  drinks,  occurs  later  on  in 
the  book,  at  xxiii.  31,  32  ;  but  it  is  not  so  effectual  for 
the  purpose,  and  we  may  be  thankful  that  the  Divine 
Wisdom  is  not  checked  in  its  choice  of  matter  by  our 
present-day  notions  of  propriety. 

There  are  two  elements  in  the  temptation  :  there  is 
the  smooth  and  flattering  speech,  the  outpouring  of 
compliment  and  pretended  affection  expressed  in  vii. 
15,  the  subtle  and  enflaming  suggestion  that  "stolen 
waters  are  sweet ; "  ^  and  there  is  the  beauty  of  form 
enhanced  by  artful  painting  of  the  eyelids,^  and  by 
all  those  gratifications  of  the  senses  which  melt  the 
manhood  and  undermine  the  resisting  power  of  the 
victim.^  In  our  own  time  we  should  have  to  add  still 
further  elements  of  temptation, — sophistical  arguments 
and  oracular  utterances  of  a  false  science,  which  en- 
courages men  to  do  for  health  what  appetite  bids 
them  do  for  pleasure. 

After  all,  this  is  but  a  type  of  all  temptations  to 
sin.  There  are  weak  points  in  every  character ;  there 
are  places  in  every  life  where  the  descent  is  singularly 
easy.  A  siren  voice  waylays  us  with  soft  words  and 
insinuating  arguments ;  gentle  arms  are  thrown  around 
us,  and  dazzling  visions  occupy  our  eyes ;  our  con- 
science seems  to  fade  away  in  a  mist  of  excited  feeling ; 
there  is  a  sort  of  twilight  in  which  shapes  are  un- 
certain, and  the  imagination  works  mightily  with  the 

.*  Prov.  ix.  17.  2  Prov.  vi.  25.  '  Prov.  vii.  16,  17. 


V.22, 23.]       THE   WAYS  AND  ISSUES  OF  SIN.  69 

obscure  presentations  of  the  senses.  We  are  taken 
unawares ;  the  weak  point  happens  to  be  unguarded ; 
the  fatal  byepath  with  its  smooth  descent  is,  as  it 
were,  sprung  upon  us. 

Now  the  safeguard  against  the  specific  sin  before  us 
is  presented  in  a  true  and  whole-hearted  marriage.^ 
And  the  safeguard  against  all  sin  is  equally  to  be 
found  in  the  complete  and  constant  preoccupation  of 
the  soul  with  the  Divine  Love.  The  author  is  very  far 
from  indulging  in  allegory, — his  thoughts  are  occupied 
with  a  very  definite  and  concrete  evil,  and  a  very 
definite  and  concrete  remedy ;  but  instinctively  the 
Christian  ear  detects  a  wider  application,  and  the 
Christian  heart  turns  to  that  strange  and  exigent 
demand  made  by  its  Lord,  to  hate  father  and  mother, 
and  even  all  human  ties,  in  order  to  concentrate  on 
Him  an  exclusive  love  and  devotion.  It  is  our  method 
to  state  a  general  truth  and  illustrate  it  with  par- 
ticular instances ;  it  is  the  method  of  a  more  primitive 
wisdom  to  dwell  upon  a  particular  instance  in  such  a 
way  as  to  suggest  a  general  truth.  Catching,  there- 
fore, involuntarily  the  deeper  meanings  of  such  a 
thought,  we  notice  that  escape  from  the  allurements  of 
the  strange  woman  is  secured  by  the  inward  concentra- 
tion of  a  pure  wedded  love.  In  the  permitted  paths 
of  connubial  intimacy  and  tenderness  are  to  be  found 
raptures  more  sweet  and  abiding  than  those  which  are 
vainly  promised  by  the  ways  of  sin. 

"  Here  Love  his  golden  shafts  employs,  here  lights 
His  constant  lamp,  and  waves  his  purple  wings, 
Reigns  here  and  revels ;  not  in  the  bought  smile 
Of  harlots,  loveless,  joyless,  unendeared."- 

•  Pro  v.  V.  15-19.  Paradise  Lost. 


70  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

Forbidding  to  marry  is  a  device  of  Satan ;  anything 
which  tends  to  degrade  or  to  desecrate  marriage  bears 
on  its  face  the  mark  of  the  Tempter.  It  is  at  our 
peril  that  we  invade  the  holy  mystery,  or  brush 
away  from  its  precincts  the  radiant  dews  which  reflect 
the  light  of  God.  Nay,  even  the  jest  and  the  playful 
teasing  which  the  subject  sometimes  occasions  are 
painfully  inappropriate  and  even  offensive.  We  do  ill 
to  smile  at  the  mutual  absorption  and  tender  endear- 
ments of  the  young  married  people ;  we  should  do 
better  to  pray  that  their  love  might  grow  daily  more 
absorbing  and  more  tender.  I  would  say  to  brides  and 
bridegrooms  :  Magnify  the  meaning  of  this  sacred  union 
of  yours ;  try  to  understand  its  Divine  symbolism. 
Labour  diligently  to  keep  its  mystical  passion  pure  and 
ardent  and  strong.  Remember  that  love  needs  earnest, 
humble,  self-suppressing  cultivation,  and  its  bloom  is 
at  first  easily  worn  off  by  negligence  or  laziness. 
Husbands,  labour  hard  to  make  your  assiduous  and 
loving  care  more  manifest  to  your  wives  as  years  go 
by.  Wives,  desire  more  to  shine  in  the  eyes  of  your 
husbands,  and  to  retain  their  passionate  and  chivalrous 
admiration,  than  you  did  in  the  days  of  courtship. 

Where  marriage  is  held  honourable, — a  sacrament  of 
heavenly  significance, — where  it  begins  in  a  disinterested 
love,  grows  in  educational  discipline,  and  matures  in  a 
complete  harmony,  an  absolute  fusion  of  the  wedded 
souls,  you  have  at  once  the  best  security  against  many 
of  the  worst  evils  which  desolate  society,  and  the  most 
exquisite  type  of  the  brightest  and  loveliest  spiritual 
state  which  is  promised  to  us  in  the  world  to  come. 

Our  sacred  writings  glorify  marriage,  finding  in  it 
more  than   any  other   wisdom   or  religion   has  found. 


v.22,23.]       THE   WAYS  AND  ISSUES   OF  SIN.  71 

The  Bible,  depicting  the  seductions  and  fascinations 
of  sin,  sets  off  against  them  the  infinitely  sweeter  joys 
and  the  infinitely  more  binding  fascinations  of  this 
condition  which  was  created  and  appointed  in  the  time 
of  man's  innocence,  and  is  still  the  readiest  way  of 
bringing  back  the  Paradise  which  is  lost. 

II.  T/ie  binding  results  of  sin. — It  is  interesting  to 
compare  with  the  teaching  of  this  chapter  the  doctrine 
of  Karma  in  that  religion  of  Buddha  which  was  already 
winning  its  victorious  way  in  the  far  East  at  the  time 
when  these  introductory  chapters  were  written.  The 
Buddha  said  in  effect  to  his  disciple,  ''You  are  in 
slavery  to  a  tyrant  set  up  by  yourself.  Your  own 
deeds,  words,  and  thoughts,  in  the  former  and  present 
states  of  being,  are  your  own  avengers  through  a 
countless  series  of  lives.  If  you  have  been  a  murderer, 
a  thief,  a  liar,  impure,  a  drunkard,  you  must  pay  the 
penalty  in  your  next  birth,  either  in  one  of  the  hells,  or 
as  an  unclean  animal,  or  as  an  evil  spirit,  or  as  a  demon. 
You  cannot  escape,  and  I  am  powerless  to  set  you  free. 
Not  in  the  heavens,"  so  says  the  Dhammapada,  "not 
in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  not  if  thou  hidest  thyself  in  the 
clefts  of  the  mountains,  wilt  thou  find  a  place  where 
thou  canst  escape  the  force  of  thy  own  evil  actions." 

"  His  own  iniquities  shall  take  the  wicked,  and  he 
shall  be  holden  with  the  cords  of  his  sin."  This  terrible 
truth  is  illustrated  with  mournful  emphasis  in  the  sin 
of  the  flesh  which  has  been  occupying  our  attention^ 
a  sin  which  can  only  be  described  as  "  taking  fire 
into  the  bosom  or  walking  upon  hot  coals,"  with  the 
inevitable  result  that  the  clothes  are  burnt  and  the 
feet    are    scorched.^      There    are    four    miseries    com- 

'  Prov.  vi.  27,  28. 


72  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

parable  to  four  strong  cords  which  bind  the  unhappy 
transgressor.  First  of  all,  there  is  the  shame.  His 
honour  is  given  to  others/  and  his  reproach  shall  not 
be  wiped  away.^  The  jealous  rage  of  the  offended 
husband  will  accept  no  ransom,  no  expiation  f  with 
relentless  cruelty  the  avenger  will  expose  to  ruin  and 
death  the  hapless  fool  who  has  transgressed  against 
him.  Secondly,  there  is  the  loss  of  wealth.  The 
ways  of  debauchery  lead  to  absolute  want,  for  the 
debauchee,  impelled  by  his  tormenting  passions,  will 
part  with  all  his  possessions  in  order  to  gratify  his 
appetites,*  until,  unnerved  and  '  feckless,'  incapable  of 
any  honest  work,  he  is  at  his  wits'  end  to  obtain  even 
the  necessaries  of  life.^  For  the  third  binding  cord  of 
the  transgression  is  the  loss  of  health ;  the  natural 
powers  decay,  the  flesh  and  the  body  are  consumed 
with  loathsome  disease.^  Yet  this  is  not  the  worst. 
Worse  than  all  the  rest  is  the  bitter  remorse,  the 
groaning  and  the  despair  at  the  end  of  the  shortened 
life.  ^'  How  have  I  hated  instruction,  and  my  heart 
despised  reproof ! " '  "  Going  down  to  the  chambers 
of  death,"  wise  too  late,  the  victim  of  his  own  sins 
remembers  with  unspeakable  agony  the  voice  of  his 
teachers,  the  efforts  of  those  who  wished  to  instruct 
him. 

There  is  an  inevitableness  about  it  all,  for  life  is  not 
lived  at  a  hazard ;  every  path  is  clearly  laid  bare  from 
its  first  step  to  its  last  before  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  ; 
the  ups  and  downs  which  obscure  the  way  for  us 
are  all  level  to  Him.^     Not  by  chance,  therefore,  but 

*  Prov.  V.  9.  <  Prov.  v.  lo.  '  Prov.  v.  12-14. 

*  Prov.  vi.  33.  ^  Prov.  vi.  26.  *  Prov.  v.  21. 

*  Prov.  vi.  34,  35.  •  Prov.  v   11. 


v.22,23.]        THE   WAYS  AND  ISSUES   OF  SIN.  73 


by  the  clearest  interworking  of  cause  and  effect,  these 
fetters  of  sin  grow  upon  the  feet  of  the  sinner,  while 
the  ruined  soul  mourns  in  the  latter  days/  The  reason 
why  Wisdom  cries  aloud,  so  urgently,  so  continually, 
is  that  she  is  uttering  eternal  truths,  laws  which  hold 
in  the  spiritual  world  as  surely  as  gravitation  holds  in 
the  natural  world  ;  it  is  that  she  sees  unhappy  human 
beings  going  astray  in  the  greatness  of  their  folly, 
dying  because  they  are  without  the  instruction  which 
she  offers.- 

But  now,  to  turn  to  the  large  truth  which  is  illustrated 
here  by  a  particular  instance,  that  our  evil  actions, 
forming  evil  habits,  working  ill  results  on  us  and  on 
others,  are  themselves  the  means  of  our  punishment. 

"  The  gods  are  just,  and  of  our  pleasant  vices 
Make  instruments  to  plague  us."  ^ 

We  do  not  rightly  conceive  God  or  Judgment  or  Hell 
until  we  recognize  that  in  spiritual  and  moral  things 
there  is  a  binding  law,  which  is  no  arbitrary  decree  of 
God,  but  the  essential  constitution  of  His  universe. 
He  does  not  punish,  but  sin  punishes ;  He  does  not 
make  hell,  but  sinners  make  it.  As  our  Lord  puts  it, 
the  terrible  thing  about  all  sinning  is  that  one  may 
become  involved  in  an  eternal  sin.**  It  is  by  an  in- 
herent necessity  that  this  results  from  a  sin  against 
the  Holy  Spirit  within  us. 

We   cannot  too  frequently,   or   too  solemnly,   dwell 

*  It  is,  if  we  may  say  so,  a  maxim  of  modern  science  that  "A  sin 
without  punishment  is  as  impossible,  as  complete  a  contradiction  in 
terms,  as  a  cause  without  an  effect  "  (W.  R.  Gregg). 

'^  Prov.  V.  23. 
'  King  Lear. 

*  Mark  iii.  26. 


74  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

upon  this  startling  fact.  It  is  a  fact  established,  not 
by  a  doubtful  text  or  two,  nor  by  a  mere  ipse  dixit  of 
authority,  but  by  the  widest  possible  observation  of 
life,  by  a  concurrent  witness  of  all  teachers  and  all  true 
religions.  No  planetary  movement,  no  recurrence  of 
the  seasons,  no  chemical  transformation,  no  physio- 
logical growth,  no  axiom  of  mathematics,  is  established 
on  surer  or  more  irrefutable  grounds.  Sin  itself  may 
even  be  defined,  from  an  induction  of  facts,  as  ''  the 
act  of  a  human  will  which,  being  contrary  to  the  Divine 
Will,  reacts  with  inevitable  evil  upon  the  agent."  Sin 
is  a  presumptuous  attempt  on  the  part  of  a  human  will 
to  disturb  the  irresistible  order  of  the  Divine  Will,  and 
can  only  draw  down  upon  itself  those  lightnings  of  the 
Divine  power,  which  otherwise  would  have  flashed 
through  the  heavens  beautiful  and  beneficent. 

Let  us,  then,  try  to  impress  upon  our  minds  that, 
not  in  the  one  sin  of  which  we  have  been  speaking 
only,  but  in  all  sins  alike,  certain  bands  are  being  woven, 
certain  cords  twisted,  certain  chains  forged,  which  must 
one  day  take  and  hold  the  sinner  with  galling  stringency. 

Every  sin  is  preparing  for  us  a  band  of  shame  to  be 
wound  about  our  brows  and  tightened  to  the  torture- 
point.  There  are  many  gross  and  generally  condemned 
actions  which  when  they  are  exposed  bring  their 
immediate  penalty.  To  be  discovered  in  dishonourable 
dealing,  to  have  our  hidden  enormities  brought  into  the 
light  of  day,  to  forfeit  by  feeble  vices  a  fair  and  dignified 
position,  will  load  a  conscience  which  is  not  quite  callous 
with  a  burden  of  shame  that  makes  life  quite  intolerable. 
But  there  are  many  sins  which  do  not  entail  this  scorn- 
ful censure  of  our  fellows,  sins  with  which  they  have  a 
secret  sympathy.  Tor, which  //?^jV  cherish  an  ill-disguised 


V.  22, 23.]        THE   IVA  YS  AND  ISSUES   OF  SIN.  75 


admiration, — the  more  heroic  sins  of  daring  ambition, 
victorious  selfishness,  or  proud  defiance  of  God.  None 
the  less  these  tolerated  iniquities  are  weaving  the 
inevitable  band  of  shame  for  the  brow  :  we  shall  not 
always  be  called  on  only  to  face  our  fellows,  for  we 
are  by  our  creation  the  sons  of  God,  in  whose  image 
we  are  made,  and  eventually  we  must  confront  the 
children  of  Light,  must  look  straight  up  into  the  face 
of  God,  with  these  sins — venial  as  they  were  thought — 
set  in  the  light  of  His  countenance.  Then  will  the 
guilty  spirit  burn  with  an  indescribable  and  unbearable 
shame, — "  To  hide  my  head  !  To  bury  my  eyes  that 
they  may  not  see  the  rays  of  the  Eternal  Light,"  will 
be  its  cry.  May  we  not  say  with  truth  that  the  shame 
which  comes  from  the  judgment  of  our  fellows  is  the 
most  tolerable  of  the  bands  of  shame  ? 

Again,  every  sin  is  preparing  for  us  a  loss  of  wealth, 
of  the  only  wealth  which  is  really  durable,  the  treasure 
in  the  heavens ;  every  sin  is  capable  of  "  bringing 
a  man  to  a  piece  of  bread,"  ^  filching  from  him  all  the 
food  on  which  the  spirit  lives.  It  is  too  common  a 
sight  to  see  a  young  spendthrift  who  has  run  through 
his  patrimony  in  a  few  years,  who  must  pass  through 
the  bankruptcy  court,  and  who  has  burdened  his  estate 
and  his  name  with  charges  and  reproaches  from  which 
he  can  never  again  shake  himself  free.  But  that  is 
only  a  superficial  illustration  of  a  spiritual  reality. 
Every  sin  is  the  precursor  of  spiritual  bankruptcy  ; 
it  is  setting  one's  hand  to  a  bill  which,  when  it  comes 
in,  must  break  the  wealthiest  signatory. 

That  little  sin  of  yours,  trivial  as  it  seems, — the  mere 
inadvertence,  the  light-hearted  carelessness,  the  petty 

'  Prov.  vi.  26. 


76  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

spleen,  the  innocent  romancing,  the  gradual  hardening 
of  the  heart, — is,  if  you  would  see  it,  like  scratching 
with  a  pen  through  and  through  a  writing  on  a  parch- 
ment. What  is  this  writing  ?  What  is  this  parchment  ? 
It  is  a  title-deed  to  an  inheritance,  the  inheritance  of 
the  saints  in  light.  You  are  quietly  erasing  your  name 
from  it  and  blotching  its  fair  characters.  When  you 
come  to  the  day  of  account,  you  will  show  your  claim, 
and  it  will  be  illegible.  *'  What,"  you  will  say,  "  am 
I  to  lose  this  great  possession  for  this  trifling  scratch 
of  the  pen  ?  "  "  Even  so,"  says  the  Inexorable  ;  "  it  is 
precisely  in  this  way  that  the  inheritance  is  lost ;  not, 
as  a  rule,  by  deliberate  and  reckless  destruction  of  the 
mighty  treasure,  but  by  the  thoughtless  triviality,  the 
indolent  easifulness.  See  you,  it  is  the  work  of  your 
own  hand.     His  own  iniquities  shall  take  the  wicked." 

Again,  every  sin  is  the  gradual  undermining  of  the 
health,  not  so  much  the  body's,  as  the  soul's  health. 
Those  are,  as  it  were,  the  slightest  sins  by  which 
"  the  flesh  and  the  body  are  consumed."  ''  Who  hath 
wounds  without  cause  ?  Who  hath  redness  of  eyes  ?  " 
Who  is  stricken  and  hurt  and  beaten,  bitten  as  if 
by  an  adder,  stung  as  if  by  a  serpent  ?  ^  It  is  the 
victim  of  drink,  and  every  feature  shows  how  he  is 
holden  by  the  cords  of  his  sin.  But  there  is  one  who 
is  drunk  with  the  blood  of  his  fellow-men,  and  has 
thriven  at  the  expense  of  the  poor,  who  yet  is  temperate, 
healthy,  and  strong.  The  disease  of  his  soul  does  not 
come  to  the  light  of  day.  None  the  less  it  is  there. 
The  sanity  of  soul  which  alone  can  preserve  the  life 
in  the  Eternal  World  and  in  the  presence  of  God  is 

'  Prov.  xxiii.  29,  32. 


v.22,23.]       THE  WAYS  AND  ISSUES  OF  SIN.  77 

fatally  disturbed  by  every  sin.  A  virus  enters  the 
spirit ;  germs  obtain  a  lodgment  there.  The  days  pass, 
the  years  pass.  The  respected  citizen,  portly,  rich,  and 
courted,  goes  at  last  in  a  good  old  age  from  the  scene 
of  his  prosperity  here, — surely  to  a  fairer  home  above  ? 

Alas,  the  soul  if  it  were  to  come  into  those  fadeless 
mansions  would  be  found  smitten  with  a  leprosy.  This 
is  no  superficial  malady;  through  and  through  the  whole 
head  is  sick,  the  whole  heart  faint.  Strange  that  men 
never  noticed  it  down  there  in  the  busy  world.  But 
the  fact  is,  it  is  the  air  of  heaven  ivliieh  brings  out  these 
suppressed  disorders.  And  the  diseased  soul  whispers, 
"  Take  me  out  of  this  air,  I  beseech  you,  at  all  costs. 
I  must  have  change  of  climate.  This  atmosphere  is 
intolerable  to  me.  I  can  only  be  well  out  of  heaven." 
"  Poor  spirit,"  murmur  the  angels,  ''  he  says  the  truth  ; 
certainly  he  could  not  live  here." 

Finally,  the  worst  chain  forged  in  the  furnace  of  sin 
is  Remorse :  for  no  one  can  guarantee  to  the  sinner 
an  eternal  insensibility ;  rather  it  seems  quite  unavoid- 
able that  some  day  he  must  awake,  and  standing 
shamed  before  the  eyes  of  his  Maker,  stripped  of  all 
his  possessions  and  hopelessly  diseased  in  soul,  must 
recognize  clearly  what  might  have  been  and  now 
cannot  be.  Memory  will  be  busy.  "  Ah  !  that  cursed 
memory  ! "  he  cries.  It  brings  back  all  the  gentle 
pleadings  of  his  mother  in  that  pure  home  long  ago ;  it 
brings  back  all  his  father's  counsels  ;  it  brings  back  the 
words  which  were  spoken  from  the  pulpit,  and  all  the 
conversations  with  godly  friends.  He  remembers  how 
he  wavered — "  Shall  it  be  the  strait  and  hallowed  road, 
or  shall  it  be  the  broad  road  of  destruction?"  He 
remembers  all    the  pleas  and  counterpleas,    and    how 


78  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

with  open  eyes  he  chose  the  way  which,  as  he  saw, 
went  down  to  death.  And  now  ?  Now  it  is  irrevocable. 
He  said  he  would  take  his  luck,  and  he  has  taken  it. 
He  said  God  would  not  punish  a  poor  creature  like 
him.  God  does  not  punish  him.  No,  there  is  God 
making  level  all  his  paths  now  as  of  old.  This  punish- 
ment is  not  God's  ;  it  is  his  own.  His  own  iniquities 
have  taken  the  wicked;  lie  is  held  with  the  cords  of  his 
sin. 

Here  then  is  the  plain,  stern  truth, — a  law,  not  of 
Nature  only,  but  of  the  Universe.  As  you  look  into 
a  fact  so  solemn,  so  awful ;  as  the  cadence  of  the 
chapter  closes,  do  you  not  seem  to  perceive  with  a  new 
clearness  how  men  needed  One  who  could  take  away 
the  sins  of  the  world,  One  who  could  break  those  cruel 
bonds  which  men  have  made  for  themselves  ? 


VI. 


CERTAIN  EXAMPLES   OF  THE  BINDING   CHARACTER 
OF  OUR   OWN  ACTIONS. 

"The  surety  .  .  .  the  sluggard  .  .  .  and  the  worthless  person." — 
Prov.  vi.  I,  6,  12. 

FROM  the  solemn  principle  announced  at  the  close 
of  the  last  chapter  the  teacher  passes,  almost 
unconscious  of  the  thought  which  determines  his  selec- 
tion of  subjects,  to  illustrate  the  truth  by  three  examples, 
— that  of  the  Surety,  that  of  the  Sluggard,  that  of  the 
Worthless  Man.  And  then,  because  the  horrors  of 
impurity  are  the  most  striking  and  terrible  instance  of 
all,  this  subject,  coming  up  again  at  v.  20,  like  the  dark 
ground  tone  of  the  picture,  finally  runs  into  the  long 
and  detailed  description  of  chap.  vii. 

These  three  examples  are  full  of  interest,  partly 
because  of  the  light  they  throw  on  the  habits  and  moral 
sentiments  of  the  time  in  which  this  Introduction  was 
written,  but  chiefly  because  of  the  permanent  teaching 
which  is  luminous  in  them  all,  and  especially  in  the 
third. 

We  may  spend  a  few  minutes  upon  the  first.  The 
young  man  finding  his  neighbour  in  monetary  diffi- 
culties, consents  in  an  easy-going  way  to  become  his 
surety;  he  enters  into  a  solemn  pledge  with  the  creditor, 
probably  a  Phcenician  money-lender,  that  he  will  him- 


8o  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

self  be  responsible  if  the  debtor  is  not  prepared  to  pay 
at  the  appointed  time.  He  now  stands  committed  ;  he 
is  like  a  roe  that  is  caught  by  the  hunter,  or  a  bird  that 
is  held  by  the  fowler,  in  the  hand  of  his  neighbour. 
His  peace  of  mind,  and  his  welfare,  depend  no  longer 
upon  himself,  but  upon  the  character,  the  weakness,  the 
caprice  of  another.  This  is  a  good  illustration  of  the 
way  in  which  a  thoughtless  action  may  weave  cruel 
bands  to  bind  the  unwary.  Looking  at  the  matter  from 
this  point  of  view,  our  book  strongly  and  frequently 
denounces  the  practice  of  suretiship.  To  become  surety 
for  another  shows  that  you  are  void  of  understanding. 
So  foolish  is  the  action  that  it  is  compared  to  the  sur- 
render of  one's  own  garments,  and  even  to  the  loss  of 
personal  freedom.  A  proverb  declares :  "  He  that  is 
surety  for  a  stranger  shall  smart  for  it,  but  he  that 
hateth  suretiship  is  sure."  ^ 

If  then  the  young  man  has  immeshed  himself  in 
obligations  of  this  kind,  he  is  recommended  to  spare  no 
pains,  not  to  stand  upon  a  false  pride,  but  to  go  with 
all  urgency,  with  frank  abasement,  to  the  man  for  whom 
he  has  pledged  his  credit,  and  at  all  costs  to  get  released 
from  the  obligation.  "  Be  thou  not,"  says  Wisdom, 
*'  one  of  them  that  strike  hands,  or  of  them  that  are 
sureties  for  debts  :  if  thou  hast  not  wherewith  to  pay, 
why  should  he  take  away  thy  bed  from  under  thee  ?  "  ^ 

We  feel  at  once  that  there  is  another  side  to  the 
question.  There  may  be  cases  in  which  a  true  brother- 
liness  will  require  us  to  be  surety  for  our  friend.  "  An 
honest  man  is  surety  for  his  neighbour,  but  he  that  is 

'  See  Prov.  xvii.  i8,  xx.  i6,  repeated  in  xxvii.  13,  and  especially 
xi.  15. 

^  Prov.  xxii.  26,  27. 


vi.  1,6,  12.]     BINDING  CHARACTER   OF  ACTIONS.  8i 

impudent  will  forsake  him,"  says  Ecclesiasticus.  And 
from  another  point  of  view  an  injunction  has  to  be 
given  to  one  who  has  persuaded  his  friend  to  stand  as 
his  surety, — "  Forget  not  the  friendship  of  thy  surety, 
for  he  hath  given  his  life  for  thee.  A  sinner  will 
overthrow  the  good  estate  of  his  surety,  and  he  that  is 
f  an  unthankful  mind  will  leave  him  in  danger  that 
delivered  him."  But  confining  ourselves  to  the  stand- 
point of  the  text,  we  may  well  raise  a  note  of  warning 
against  the  whole  practice.  As  Ecclesiasticus  himself 
says,  "Suretiship  hath  undone  many  of  good  estate,  and 
shaken  them  as  a  wave  of  the  sea  :  mighty  men  hath 
it  driven  from  their  houses,  so  that  they  wandered 
among  strange  nations.  A  wicked  man  transgressing 
the  commandments  of  the  Lord  shall  fall  into  sureti- 
ship."  1 

We  may  say  perhaps  that  the  truly  moral  course  in 
these  relations  with  our  fellows  lies  here  :  if  we  can 
afford  to  be  a  surety  for  our  neighbour,  we  can  clearly 
afford  to  lend  him  the  money  ourselves.  If  we  can- 
not afford  to  lend  it  to  him,  then  it  is  weak  and  fooHsh, 
and  may  easily  become  wicked  and  criminal,  to  make 
our  peace  of  mind  dependent  on  the  action  of  a  third 
person,  while  in  all  probability  it  is  hurtful  to  our  friend 
himself,  because  by  consenting  to  divide  the  risks  with 
the  actual  creditor  we  tend  to  lessen  in  the  debtor's 
mind  the  full  realization  of  his  indebtedness,  and  thus 
encourage  him  in  shifty  courses  and  unnerve  his  manly 
sense  of  responsibility.  The  cases  in  which  it  is  wise 
as  well  as  kind  to  become  bail  for  another  are  so  rare 
that  they  may  practically  be  ignored  in  this  connection ; 

'  Eccles.  xxix.  14,  16,  17,  18,  19. 


82  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

and  when  these  rare  occasions  occur  they  may  safely 
be  left  to  the  arbitrament  of  other  principles  of  conduct 
which  in  the  present  instance  are  out  of  view.  Here 
it  is  enough  to  emphasise  what  a  miserable  chain 
thoughtlessness  in  the  matter  of  suretiship  may  forge 
for  the  thoughtless. 

We  may  now  pass  to  our  second  illustration,  the 
poverty  and  ruin  which  must  eventually  overtake  the 
Sluggard.  *'  I  went  by  the  field  of  the  slothful,  and  by 
the  vineyard  of  the  man  void  of  understanding ;  and,  lo, 
it  was  all  grown  over  with  thorns.  The  face  thereof 
was  covered  with  nettles,  and  the  stone  wall  thereof 
was  broken  down.  Then  I  beheld,  and  considered  well: 
I  saw,  and  received  instruction."  ^  And  there  is  the 
lazy  owner  of  this  neglected  farm  murmuring,  "  Yet  a 
Httle  sleep,  a  Httle  slumber,  a  little  folding  of  the  hands 
to  sleep."  There  seem  to  be  in  every  community  a 
certain  number  of  people  who  can  only  be  described  as 
constitutionally  incapable  :  as  children  they  are  heavy 
and  phlegmatic ;  at  school  they  are  always  playing 
truant,  and  exerting  themselves,  if  at  all,  to  escape 
the  irksome  necessity  of  learning  anything ;  when  they 
em,  /  into  life  for  themselves  they  have  no  notion  of 
honest  effort  and  steady  persistency,  but  directly  their 
employment  becomes  distasteful  they  quit  it ;  and  at 
length,  when  they  end  their  days  in  the  workhouse,  or 
in  those  shameful  haunts  of  sin  and  vice  to  which  sloth 
so  easily  leads,  they  have  the  melancholy  reflection  to 
take  with  them  to  the  grave  that  they  have  proved 
themselves  an  encumbrance  of  the  earth,  and  can  be 
welcomed  in  no  conceivable  world.     Now  the  question 

'  Prov.  xxiv.  30-34 ;  see  for  a  fullt^r  treatm<  nt  of  the  subject 
Lecture  XX. 


1,6,12.]     BINDING   CHARACTER   OF  ACTIONS. 


must  force  itself  upon  our  attention,  Might  not  these 
incapables  be  rescued  if  they  were  taken  young  enough, 
and  taught  by  wholesome  discipline  and  a  wise  education 
what  will  be  the  inevitable  issue  of  their  lethargic 
tendencies  ?  Might  not  the  farm  of  the  sluggard  be 
impressed  on  their  very  eyeballs  as  a  perpetual  and 
effective  warning  ? 

Leaving  this  important  question  to  social  reformers, 
we  may  note  how  beautifully  this  book  employs  the 
examples  of  insect  life  to  teach  and  stimulate  human 
beings.  "  The  ants  are  a  people  not  strong.  Yet  they 
provide  their  meat  in  summer.  .  .  .  The  locusts  have  no 
king.  Yet  go  they  forth  all  of  them  by  bands."  ^  "  Go 
to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard  ;  consider  her  ways,  and  be 
wise  :  which  having  no  chief,  overseer,^  or  ruler,  pro- 
videth  her  meat  in  the  summer,  and  gathereth  her  food 
in  the  harvest."  ^  By  this  little  touch  the  book  of 
Proverbs  has  turned  the  magnificent  fields  of  modern 
scientific  observation,  and  all  the  astonishing  revelations 
of  the  microscope,  into  a  school  of  moral  and  spiritual 
discipline  for  human  life.  Thus  the  ants  swarm  in  the 
woods  and  the  fields  as  if  to  rebuke  the  laziness  and 
thriftlessness  of  man.  They  work  night  and  day  ;  they 
store  their  galleries  with  food  ;  they  capture  and  nourish 
aphides,  which  they  use  as  a  kind  of  domestic  cattle. 
The  vast  and  symmetrical  mounds,  which  they  rear  as 
habitations  and  barns,  are,  relatively  to  the  size  of  the 
builders,  three  or  four  times  larger  than  the  pyramids. 
,By   what    mysterious    instinct    those    long    lines    of 

'  Prov.  XXX.  25-27. 

^  It  is  the  word  used  in  Exod.  v.  6  of  those  who  directed  the  tasks 
of  the  Israelites  in  Egypt. 
»  Prov.  vi.  6-8. 


84  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

labourers  march  and  work  in  unison  ;  by  what  half- 
human  impulses  they  form  in  serried  hosts  and  engage 
in  deadly  battles  prolonged  through  several  days  ;  by 
what  ludicrous  freaks  they  are  led  to  imitate  men, 
spending  their  lives  in  pampered  luxury,  dependent 
upon  slaves,  until  at  last  in  their  helplessness  they  are 
mastered  by  their  bondservants  in  revolt  ;  by  what 
heavenly  motive  they  are  stirred  to  feed  and  nourish 
and  nurse  one  another  in  sickness  and  trouble, — we 
need  not  here  enquire,  for  we  are  only  told  to  go  to 
the  ant  in  order  to  learn  her  ways  of  ceaseless  activity. 
But  in  this  brief  precept  we  seem  to  receive  a  hint  of 
the  boundless  instruction  and  warning  to  be  derived 
from  the  humbler  inhabitants  of  this  earth  which  man 
claims  as  his  own. 

Let  us  pass  to  the  third  illustration  of  the  theme. 
The  surety  is  the  victim  of  easygoing  thoughtlessness, 
the  sluggard  is  the  victim  of  laziness  and  incapacity ; 
but  now  there  appears  on  the  scene  the  thoroughly 
worthless  character,  the  man  of  Belial,  and  after  his 
portrait  is  drawn  in  a  few  touches,  his  sudden  and 
hopeless  ruin  is  announced  in  a  way  which  is  all  the 
more  striking  because  the  connection  between  the  sin 
and  its  punishment  is  left  to  be  guessed  rather  than 
explained.-^  The  description  of  this  person  is  wonder- 
fully graphic  and  instructive,  and  we  must  dwell  for 
a  moment  on  the  details.  We  see  him,  not  in  repose, 
but  busy  going  from  place  to  place,  and  talking  a  great 
deal.  His  lips  are  shaped  continually  to  lie, — "he 
walketh  with  a  froward  mouth."  There  is  no  straight- 
forwardness about  him  ;  he  is  full  of  hint,  suggestion, 

*  Prov.  vi.  12-15. 


vi.  1,6,  12.]     BINDING   CHARACTER   OF  ACTIONS.  85 

innuendo;  he  gives  you  always  the  idea  that  he  has 
an  accomplice  in  the  background  ;  he  turns  to  you  and 
winks  in  a  knowing  way  ;  he  has  a  habit  of  shuffling 
with  his  feet,  as  if  some  evil  spirit  forbade  him  to  stand 
still ;  you  constantly  catch  him  gesticulating ;  he  points 
with  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder,  and  nods  significantly  ; 
he  is  never  better  pleased  than  when  he  can  give  the 
impression  of  knowing  a  great  deal  more  than  he  cares 
to  say.  He  delights  to  wrap  himself  in  mystery — to 
smile  blandly  and  then  relapse  into  a  look  of  in- 
scrutability— to  frown  severely  and  then  assume  an 
air  of  gentle  innocence.  He  is  in  the  habit  of  beckoning 
one  into  a  corner,  and  making  a  whispered  communi- 
cation as  if  he  were  3^our  particular  friend,  as  if  he  had 
taken  a  fancy  to  you  directly  he  saw  you,  and  was  there- 
fore eager  to  give  you  some  information  which  nothing 
would  induce  him  to  divulge  to  anyone  else  ;  if  you 
are  foolish  enough  to  share  his  confidences,  he  gives 
you  very  soon,  when  others  are  standing  by,  a  cunning 
leer,  as  if  to  intimate  that  you  and  he  are  old  acquaint- 
ances, and  are  in  the  secret,  which  the  rest  do  not 
know.^ 

The  fact  is  that  his  heart  is  as  deceitful  as  his  lips  ; 
he  cannot  be  true  on  any  terms.  If  some  simple  and 
open  course  occurred  to  his  mind  he  would  shun  it 
instinctively,  because  it  is  in  devising  evil  that  he  lives 
and  moves  and  has  his  being.  His  friendliest  ap- 
proaches fill  an  honest  man  with  misgiving,  his  words 
of  affection  or  admiration  send  a  cold  shudder  through 
one's  frame.  His  face  is  a  mask  ;  when  it  looks  fair 
you  suspect  villainy  ;  when  it  looks  villainous,  and  then 

*  CJ.  the  proverb  xvi,  30 — "  He  that  shutteth  his  eyes,  it  is  to  devise 
froward  things :  he  that  comprcsseth  his  hps  bringcth  evil  to  pass." 


86  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

only,  you  recognize  that  it  is  true.  Wherever  he  goes 
he  makes  mischief,  he  causes  divisions ;  he  is  the 
lago  of  every  play  in  which  he  takes  a  part,  the  Judas 
of  every  society  of  which  he  is  a  member.  He  manages 
to  sow  suspicion  in  the  mind  of  the  least  suspicious, 
and  to  cast  a  slur  on  the  character  of  the  most  innocent. 
When  he  has  created  discord  between  friends  he  is 
delighted.  If  he  sees  them  disposed  to  a  reconcilia- 
tion, he  comes  forward  as  a  mediator  and  takes  care 
to  exasperate  the  differences,  and  to  make  the  breach 
irreparable.  Like  Edmund  in  King  Lear,  he  has  a 
genius  for  setting  men  at  variance,  and  for  so  arranging 
his  plots  that  each  party  thinks  he  hears  with  his  own 
ears  and  sees  with  his  own  eyes  the  proof  of  the  other's 
perfidy.  But,  unlike  Edmund,  he  does  the  mischief, 
not  for  any  special  good  to  himself,  but  for  the  mere 
delight  of  being  an  agent  of  evil. 

It  is  this  kind  of  man  that  is  the  pest  of  commerce. 
He  introduces  dishonest  practices  into  every  business 
that  he  touches.  He  makes  it  a  principle  that  in 
selling  you  are  to  impose  on  the  customer,  avail  your- 
self of  his  ignorance  or  prejudice  or  weakness,  and 
hide  everything  which  might  inchne  him  to  draw  back  ; 
w^hile  in  buying  you  are  to  use  any  fraud  or  panic  or 
misrepresentation  which  might  induce  the  seller  to 
lower  the  price.^  When  he  has  been  in  a  business  for 
a  httle  while  the  whole  concern  becomes  tainted,  there 
is  a  slime  over  everything  ;  the  very  atmosphere  is  fetid. 

It  is  this  kind  of  man  that  is  the  bane  of  every 
social  circle.  In  his  presence,  all  simplicity  and  inno- 
cence,   all   charity   and   forbearance   and    compassion, 

*  Cf.  Prov.  XX.  14  :  "  It  is  naught,  it  is  naught,  saith  the  buyer :  but 
when  he  is  gone  his  way,  then  he  boasteth." 


vi.  1,6,  12.]     BINDING   CHARACTER   OF  ACTIONS.  87 

seem  to  wither  away.  If  you  are  true  and  straight- 
forward he  manages  to  make  you  ridiculous  ;  under  his 
evil  spell  you  seem  a  simpleton.  All  genial  laughter 
he  turns  into  sardonic  smiles  and  sneers  ;  all  kindly 
expressions  he  transforms  into  empty  compliments 
which  are  not  devoid  of  a  hidden  venom.  He  is  often 
very  witty,  but  his  wit  clings  like  an  eating  acid  to 
everything  that  is  good  and  pure  ;  his  tongue  will  lodge 
a  germ  of  putrescence  in  everything  which  it  touches. 

It  is  this  kind  of  man  that  is  the  leaven  of  hypocrisy 
and  malice  in  the  Christian  Church  ;  he  intrigues  and 
cabals.  He  sets  the  people  against  the  minister  and 
stirs  up  the  minister  to  suspect  his  people.  He  under- 
takes religious  work,  because  it  is  in  that  capacity  he 
can  do  most  mischief.  He  is  never  better  pleased  than 
when  he  can  pose  as  the  champion  of  orthodoxy,  because 
then  he  seems  to  be  sheltered  and  approved  by  the 
banner  which  he  is  defending. 

"  Therefore  shall  his  calamity  come  suddenly."  ^  It 
is  because  the  character  is  so  incurably  base,  so 
saturated  with  lies  and  insincerities,  that  there  can  be 
no  gradations  or  temperings  in  his  punishment.  One 
who  is  less  evil  may  be  proved  and  tested  with  slight 
troubles,  if  possibly  he  may  be  stirred  to  amendment. 
But  this  utterly  worthless  person  is  quite  unaffected 
by  the  smaller  trials,  the  tentative  disciphnes  of  life. 
He  cannot  be  chastised  as  a  son ;  he  can  only  be 
broken  as  a  vessel  in  which  there  is  an  intrinsic  flaw ; 
or  as  a  building,  which  has  got  the  plague  in  its  very 
mortar  and  plaster. 

We  are   told    that  in  Sierra  Leone  the  white  ants 

*  It  is  probably  assumed  that  warnings  and  corrections  have  been 


88  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

will  sometimes  occupy  a  house,  and  eat  their  way  into 
all  the  woodwork,  until  every  article  in  the  house  is 
hollow,  so  that  it  will  collapse  into  dust  directly  it  is 
touched.  It  is  so  with  this  deceitful  character,  so 
honeycombed,  and  eaten  through,  that  though  for 
years  it  may  maintain  its  plausible  appearance  in  the 
world,  few  people  even  suspecting  the  extent  of  the 
inward  decay,  on  a  sudden  the  end  will  come  ;  there 
will  be  one  touch  of  the  finger  of  God,  and  the  whole 
ill-compacted,  worm-devoured  thing  will  crumble  into 
matchwood  :  "  He  shall  be  broken,  and  that  without 
remedy." 

But  while  we  are  thus  watching  this  worthless  soul 
overtaken  with  an  inevitable  calamity,  we  are  reminded 
that  not  only  are  our  eyes  upon  him,  but  the  Lord  also 
sees  him.  And  to  that  calm  and  holy  watcher  of  the 
poor  sinful  creature  there  are  six  things  which  appear 
specially  hateful — seven  which  are  an  abomination  of 
His  soul.^  Is  there  not  a  kind  of  comfort  in  the  thought 
that  the  Lord  watches  and  knows  the  whole  story  of 
that  miserable  life,  not  leaving  it  to  us  to  condemn,  but 
taking  upon  Himself  the  whole  responsibility  ?  He 
knows  whether  there  is  a  reason  in  nature  for  these 
bad  hearts ;  He  knows  too  what  power  outside  of 
nature  can  change  and  redeem  them.  But  at  present 
we  want  only  to  mark  and  consider  these  seven 
things  which  are  abominable  to  God — the  seven  pro- 
minent traits  of  the  character  which  has  just  been 
depicted.     We  seem  to  need  some  spiritual  quickening, 

given  him  in  vain — cf.  Prov.  xxix.  I  :  *'  He  that  being  often  reproved 
hardeneth  his  neck  shall  suddenly  be  broken,  and  that  without 
remedy." 

*  Prov.  vi.  16-19. 


vi .  1 ,  6,  1 2 . ]     BINDING   CHA  RA  CTER   OF  A  C TIONS.  89 

that  we  may  observe  these  hateful  things  not  only  with 
our  own  natural  repugnance,  but  with  something  of  the 
holy  hatred  and  the  inward  loathing  which  they  produce 
in  the  Divine  mind. 

1.  Haughty  eyes.  "  There  is  a  generation,  Oh  how 
lofty  are  their  eyes  !  And  their  eyelids  are  lifted  up."  ^ 
And  to  that  generation  how  many  of  us  belong,  and  what 
secret  admiration  do  we  cherish  for  it,  even  when  we 
can  honestly  disclaim  any  blood  relationship  !  That 
haughty  air  of  the  great  noble ;  that  sense  of  intrinsic 
superiority ;  that  graciousness  of  manner  which  comes 
from  a  feeling  that  no  comparison  can  possibly  be 
instituted  between  the  great  man  and  his  inferiors ; 
that  way  of  surveying  the  whole  earth  as  if  it  were 
one's  private  estate ;  or  that  supreme  satisfaction  with 
one's  private  estate  as  if  it  were  the  whole  earth ! 
This  lofty  pride,  when  its  teeth  are  drawn  so  that  it 
cannot  materially  hurt  the  rest  of  mankind,  is  a  subject 
of  mirth  to  us  ;  but  to  the  Lord  it  is  not,  it  is  hateful 
and  abominable ;  it  ranks  with  the  gross  vices  and  the 
worst  sins  ;  it  is  the  chief  crime  of  Satan. 

2.  A  lying  tongue ,  though  it  "  is  but  for  a  moment."  ^ 
It  is  the  sure  sign  of  God's  intense  hatred  against 
lies  that  they  recoil  on  the  head  of  the  liar,  and  are 
the  harbingers  of  certain  destruction.  We  disHke 
lies  because  of  their  social  inconvenience,  and  where 
some  social  convenience  is  served  by  them  we  con- 
nive at  them  and  approve.  But  God  hates  the  lying 
tongue,  whatever  apparent  advantage  comes  from  it. 
If  we  lie  for  personal  gain  He  hates  it.      If  we  lie  from 


•  Pro V.  XXX.  13.     See  Lecture  XIII.  for  the  teaching  of  the  Proverbs 
on  Pride. 

'^  Prov.  xii.  19. 


90  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS, 

mere  weakness,  He  hates  it.  If  we  lie  in  the  name 
of  reHgion,  and  in  the  fashion  of  the  Jesuit,  for  the 
welfare  of  men  and  the  salvation  of  souls,  He  hates 
it  none  the  less.  The  abomination  does  'not  consist 
in  the  motive  of  the  lie,  but  in  the  lie  itself. 

3.  Hands  that  shed  innocent  blood.  So  hateful  are 
they  to  Him  that  He  could  not  let  David  His  chosen 
servant  build  Him  a  house  because  this  charge  could 
be  laid  against  the  great  king.  The  soldier  in  the 
battle-field  hewing  down  the  man  who  is  innocent, 
and  the  man  who  in  carelessness  or  greed  is  wearing 
the  poor,  who  are  dependent  on  him,  down  to  death, 
and  the  man  who  in  a  passion  rises  up  and  murders 
his  fellow, — these  are  very  hateful  to  the  Lord.  There 
at  the  beginning  of  the  world's  history,  in  the  blood 
of  righteous  Abel  crying  to  the  Lord,  and  in  the  mark 
set  on  the  guilty  brow  of  Cain,  the  heart  of  God  was 
clearly  and  finally  shown.  He  has  not  changed.  He 
does  not  shed  innocent  blood  Himself;  He  cannot 
away  with  them  that  shed  it. 

4.  Hateful  too  to  Him  is  the  devising  heart,  even 
where  courage  or  opportunity  fails  of  realizing  the 
device.  There  are  so  many  more  murderers  in  the 
world  than  we  see,  so  many  cruel  and  wicked  deeds 
restrained  by  the  police  or  by  a  dominant  public 
sentiment,  which  yet  lie  deep  in  the  wicked  imagina- 
tions of  our  hearts,  and  are  abominable  to  God, 
that  we  may  be  thankful  if  we  do.  not  see  as  He  sees, 
and'may  wonder  at  the  forbearance  of  His  compassion. 

5.  Feet  that  be  swift  in  running  to  mischief.  Feet  list- 
less in  the  ways  of  brotherly  service  or  holy  worship, 
but  swift,  twinkling  with  eager  haste,  when  any  mischief 
is  toward,  are  marked  by  God — and  hated. 


vi.  1,6,  12.]     BINDING   CHARACTER   OF  ACTIONS.  91 


6.  And  a  false  witness  is  abominable  to  Him,  the 
poisoner  of  all  social  life,  the  destroyer  of  all  justice 
between  man  and  man.  Again  and  again  in  this  book 
is  censure  passed  upon  this  unpardonable  crime.  ^ 

7.  Finally,  as  the  blessing  of  Heaven  descends  on  the 
peacemaker,  so  the  hatred  of  God  assails  the  man  who 
sows  discord  aiiioiig  brethren. 

Such  is  the  character  that  God  abominates,  the 
character  which  binds  itself  with  cords  of  penalty  and 
falls  into  irretrievable  ruin.  And  then,  after  this  dis- 
quisition on  some  of  the  vices  which  destroy  the 
individual  life  and  disturb  society,  our  author  turns 
again  to  that  snaring  vice  which  is  so  much  the  more 
destructive  because  it  comes  under  the  guise,  not  of 
hate,  but  of  love.  Those  other  vices  after  all  bear  their 
evil  on  their  faces,  but  this  is  veiled  and  enchanted 
with  a  thousand  plausible  sophistries  ;  it  pleads  the 
instincts  of  nature,  the  fascinations  of  beauty,  the 
faults  of  the  present  social  state,  and  even  advances 
the  august  precepts  of  science.  Surely  in  a  way  where 
such  a  danger  lurks  we  need  a  commandment  which 
will  shine  as  a  lamp,  a  law  which  will  be  itself  a 
light  (ver.  23). 

*  See  Prov.  xii.  17  ;  xiv.  5,  25  ;  xix.  5,  9.  A  crime,  it  may  be  re- 
membered, which  would  be  much  more  common  and  much  more  fatal 
in  a  primitive  state  of  society,  where  on  the  one  hand  legal  procedure 
was  less  cautious  and  less  searching,  and  on  the  other  hand  the 
inward  sanctions  of  truth  which  Christianity  has  brought  home  to 
the  modern  conscience  were  but  feebly  perceived. 


VII. 

REALISM   IN   MORAL    TEACHING. 
"I  looked  forth  through  my  lattice;    and  I  beheld." — Prov.  vii.  6. 

THE  three  chapters  which  close  the  introduction 
of  our  book  (vii.-ix.)  present  a  Hvely  and  pictur- 
esque contrast  between  Folly  and  Wisdom — Folly  more 
especially  in  the  form  of  vice  ;  Wisdom  more  generally 
in  her  highest  and  most  universal  intention.  Folly  is 
throughout  concrete,  an  actual  woman,  pourtrayed  with 
such  correctness  of  detail  that  she  is  felt  as  a  personal 
force.  Wisdom,  on  the  other  hand,  is  only  personified  ; 
she  is  an  abstract  conception  ;  she  speaks  with  human 
lips  in  order  to  carry  out  the  parallel,  but  she  is  not  a 
human  being,  known  to  the  writer.  As  we  shall  see  in 
the  next  Lecture,  this  high  Wisdom  never  took  a  human 
shape  until  the  Incarnation  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ; 
Folly,  unhappily,  had  become  incarnate  in  myriads  of 
instances ;  scarcely  any  city  or  place  where  men  con- 
gregate was,  or  is,  without  its  melancholy  example.  It 
follows  from  this  difference  between  the  two  that  the 
picture  of  Folly  is  a  piece  of  vigorous  realism,  while 
the  account  of  Wisdom  is  a  piece  of  delicate  idealism. 
Folly  is  historical.  Wisdom  is  prophetic.  In  this 
chapter  we  are  concerned  with  facts  which  the  author 
witnessed  from  the  window  of  his  house  looking  forth 


vii.6.]  REALISM  IN  MORAL    TEACHING.  93 

through  the  lattice.^  In  the  next  chapter  we  shall 
touch  on  ideas  which  he  had  not  seen,  and  could  not 
have  seen  unless  it  were  in  lofty  vision  looking  out 
through  the  lattice  of  the  soul.  In  the  present  chapter 
w^e  have  an  opportunity  of  noticing  the  immense  value 
and  power  of  pictorial  delineation  and  concrete  images 
in  moral  teaching  ;  in  the  next  we  shall  experience  the 
peculiar  fascination  and  inspiration  of  beautiful  abstract 
conceptions,  of  disembodied  ideals  which,  so  far  as  we 
know  at  the  time,  are  not  capable  of  actual  realization. 

It  is  important  to  remember  this  difference  in  order 
to  understand  why  Wisdom,  the  shadowy  contrast  to 
that  Mistress  Folly  who  was  only  too  concrete  and 
familiar,  shaped  itself  to  the  writer's  mind  as  a  fair  and 
stately  woman,  a  queenly  hostess  inviting  simple  ones 
to  her  feast ;  though,  as  Christians  have  learnt,  the 
historical  embodiment  of  Wisdom  was  a  man,  the  Word 
of  God,  who  of  God  was  made  unto  us  wisdom. 

Now  before  we  take  our  stand  at  the  window  and 
look  through  the  lattice  into  the  street,  we  must  notice 
the  exhortations  to  the  young  man  to  make  wisdom 
and  understanding  his  intimate  friends,  with  which  the 
chapter  begins.  The  law  is  to  be  kept  as  the  apple  of 
the  eye,  which  is  so  sensitive,  so  tender,  and  at  the 
same  time  so  surpassingly  important,  that  the  lid  has  to 
shield  it  by  a  quick  instinctive  movement  outrunning 
thought,  and  the  hand  has  to  be  ready  at  all  times  to 
come  to  its  succour.  The  commandments  are  to  be 
written  on  the  fingers,  like  engraved  rings,  which  would 
serve  as  instant  reminders  in  unwary  moments  ;  the 
very  instruments  through  which  the  evil  would  be 
done  are  to  be  claimed  and  sealed  and  inscribed  by  the 

'  Prov.  vii.  6. 


94  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

righteousness  which  can  preserve  from  evil,  while  in 
the  secret  tablets  of  the  heart  the  holy  truths  are  to  be 

written  ;  so  that  if,  in  the  business  of  life,  the  writing 
on  the  fingers  may  get  blurred  or  effaced,  the  principles 
of  righteousness  may  yet  be  kept  like  priceless  archives 
stored  in  the  inviolable  chambers  of  the  inner  man. 
Wisdom  is  to  be  treated  as  a  sister,^  not  as  if  there 
were  a  natural  kinship,  but  on  the  ground  of  the 
beautiful  influence  which  a  true  sister,  a  pure  woman 
soul,  exercises  over  a  young  man's  life.  It  is  given 
to  a  sister  again  and  again,  by  unfailing  sympathy  and 
by  sweet  comprehending  ways,  not  teasing  nor  lecturing, 
but  always  believing  and  hoping  and  loving,  to  weave  a 
magical  spell  of  goodness  and  truth  around  a  brother 
who  is  exposed  to  dangerous  temptations ;  she  will 
"  maintain  for  him  a  saving  intercourse  with  his  true 
self;"  when  the  fires  of  more  ardent  affections  are 
burning  low,  or  extinguished  in  doubt  or  disgust,  she 
will  be  with  him  like  a  calm  impersonal  presence, 
unobtrusive,  unforgotten,  the  more  potent  because  she 
makes  no  show  of  power.  Such  a  lovely  fraternal  re- 
lation is  to  be  maintained  with  Wisdom,  constant  as 
a  tie  of  blood,  firm  as  a  companionship  from  earliest 
infancy,  yet  exalted  and  enthusiastic  in  its  way,  and 
promising  a  lifelong  attraction  and  authority. 

This  blessed  kinship  with  Understanding  should  save 
the  young  man  from  such  a  fate  as  we  are  now  to 
contemplate. 

It  is  twilight,  not  yet  absolutely  dark,  but  the  shudder- 
ing horror  of  the  scene  seems  to  quench  the  doubtful 
ghmmer  of  evening  and  to  plunge  the  observer  sud- 
denly into  midnight.^     There  is  a  young  man  coming 

'  Prov.  vii.  4.  2  Prov.  vii.  9. 


vii.6.]  REALISM  IN  MORAL   TEACHING.  95 

round  the  corner  of  the  street.  His  is  no  manly 
walk,  but  an  idle,  effeminate  saunter — a  detail  which 
is  not  brought  out  in  the  English  Version.'  He  is  a 
dandy  and  sadly  empty-headed.  Now  all  young  men, 
good  and  bad  alike,  pass  through  a  period  of  dandyism, 
and  it  has  its  uses  ;  but  the  better  the  stuff  of  which  the 
man  is  made,  the  more  quickly  he  gets  over  the  crisis, 
and  returns  to  his  senses.  This  young  man  is  "  void 
of  understanding  ;  "  his  dandyism  will  be  chronic.  His 
is  a  feeble  will  and  a  prurient  mind  ;  but  his  special 
weakness  consists  in  this,  that  he  thinks  he  can  always 
resist  temptation,  and  therefore  never  hesitates  to  thrust 
himself  in  its  way.  It  is  as  if  one  were  to  pride  himself 
on  being  able  to  hang  on  with  his  fingers  to  the  rim 
of  a  well :  he  is  always  hanging  there,  and  a  touch  will 
send  him  in.  One  who  is  in  his  own  opinion  weaker 
would  give  the  dangerous  place  a  wide  berth,  and 
nothing  but  sheer  force  would  bring  him  to  the  edge. 
This  young  dandy  has  nothing  to  say  for  himself. 
A  tempter  need  not  be  at  the  trouble  to  bring  any 
sound  arguments,  or  to  make  the  worse  appear  the 
better  reason ;  to  this  poor  weakling  the  worse  the 
reason  is  the  better  it  will  appear.  As  you  see  him 
lolling  dovvn  the  path  with  his  leering  look  and  his 
infinite  self-satisfaction — good-natured,  but  without  any 
other  goodness ;  not  with  bad  intentions,  but  with 
everything  else  bad — you  can  foresee  that  he  will  be 

'  Prov.  vii,  8.  The  term  lyV  describes  a  special  kind  of  motion, 
e.g.,  the  slow  pacing  of  the  oxen  that  bare  the  ark  (2  Sam.  vi.  15),  or 
the  imagined  efforts  of  idols  to  move  (Jer.  x.  5)  ;  it  is  therefore 
unfortunate  to  render  it  by  the  generic  word  "go."  The  affected 
dignity  and  sauntering  insouciance  of  a  dandy  are  immediately  sug- 
gested by  it,  and  the  shade  of  meaning  is  fairly  well  preserved  in  the 
English  "saunter." 


96  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

blown  over  as  easily  as  a  pleasure  skiff  on  a  stormy 
ocean ;  if  you  have  a  compassionate  heart  you  mourn 
over  him  at  once,  for  you  see  the  inevitable. 

The  woman  has  come  out  to  meet  him — like  a  bird- 
catcher  who  has  been  watching  for  the  unwary  bird. 
Now  he  should  escape  at  once,  for  her  very  attire  warns 
him  of  her  intentions.  But  this  is  just  his  weakness; 
he  delights  to  place  himself  in  such  a  position ;  he 
would  say  that  it  is  the  proof  of  his  manliness  that 
he  can  resist.  She  approaches  him  with  a  smirk  and 
a  smile,  with  an  open  countenance  but  a  closed  heart. 
She  utters  a  sound,  moving  and  pathetic  like  the 
murmur  of  harp-strings;^  it  comes  from  that  inward 
tumult  of  passion  in  the  woman's  nature  which  always 
flutters  the  heart  of  a  weak  youth. ^  She  is  a  wild 
undisciplined  creature;  she  always  hankers  after  the 
forbidden  ;  the  quiet  home  ways  are  insufferable  to  her; 
out  in  the  streets,  with  their  excitement,  their  variety, 
their  suggestions,  their  possibilities,  she  forgets,  if  she 
does  not  quiet,  her  restlessness.  The  poor  woman- 
nature  which,  rightly  taught  and  trained,  might  make  the 
beauty  and  sweetness  of  a  home,  capable  of  sanctified 
affections  and  of  self-sacrificing  devotion,  is  here  entirely 
perverted.  The  passion  is  poisoned  and  now  poisonous. 
The  energy  is  diseased.  The  charms  are  all  spurious. 
She  goes  abroad  in  the  blackness  of  night  because  in 
even  a  faint  light  her  hideousness  would  appear ;  under 
the  paint  and  the  finery  she  is  a  hag;  her  eyes  are 
lustreless  but  for  the  temporary  fire  of  her  corruptions ; 
behind  that  voice  which  croons  and  ripples  there  is  a 
subdued  moan  of  despair — the  jarring  of  harp-strings 

*  This  is  the  meaning  of  the  word  translated  '  clamorous.' 

^  So  says  the  Greek  version  of  ver.  10  :  fj  Trote?  vidiv  i^lirTaadai  Kapdias. 


vii.6.]  REAIJSM  IN  MORAL   TEACHING.  97 

which  snap  and  quiver  and  shudder  and  are  silent  for 
ever.  The  wise  man  looks  at  her  with  compassionate 
loathing,  God  with  pity  which  yearns  to  save ;  but  this 
foolish  youth  is  moved  by  her  as  only  a  fool  could  be 
moved.  His  weak  understanding  is  immediately  over- 
come by  her  flatteries ;  his  polluted  heart  does  not 
perceive  the  poison  of  her  heartless  endearments. 

She  throws  her  arms  round  him  and  kisses  him,  and 
he  makes  no  question  that  it  is  a  tribute  to  the  personal 
attractions  which  he  has  himself  often  admired  in  his 
mirror.  She  would  have  him  believe  that  it  was  he 
whom  she  had  come  out  specially  to  seek,  though  it 
would  have  been  just  the  same  whoever  had  caught 
her  eye ;  and  he,  deceived  by  his  own  vanity,  at  once 
believes  her.  She  has  a  great  deal  to  say ;  she  does 
not  rely  on  one  inducement,  for  she  does  not  know 
with  whom  she  has  to  do  ;  she  pours  out  therefore  all 
her  allurements  in  succession  without  stopping  to  take 
breath. 

First,  she  holds  out  the  prospect  of  a  good  meal. 
She  has  abundant  meat  in  the  house,  which  comes  from 
the  sacrifice  she  has  just  been  offering,  and  it  must  be 
eaten  by  the  next  day,  according  to  the  commandment 
of  the  Law.^  Or  if  he  is  not  one  to  be  attracted  merely 
by  food,  she  has  appeals  to  his  aesthetic  side ;  her 
furniture  is  rich  and  artistic,  and  her  chamber  is  per- 
fumed with  sweet  spices.  She  perceives  perhaps  by 
now  what  a  weak,  faint-hearted  creature,  enervated  by 
vice,  unmanly  and  nervous,  she  has  to  do  with,  and 
she  hastens  to  assure  him  that  his  precious  skin  will 
be  safe.     Her  goodman  is  not  at  home,  and  his  absence 

'  See  Lev.  vii.  16. 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


will  be  prolonged ;  he  took  money  with  him  for  a  long 
journey,  and  she  knows  the  date  of  his  return.  The 
foolish  youth  need  not  fear,  therefore,  ^'  that  jealousy 
which  is  the  rage  of  a  man  ; "  he  will  not  have  to  offer 
gifts  and  ransom  to  the  implacable  husband,  because 
his  deed  will  never  be  known.  How  hollow  it  all 
sounds,  and  how  suspicious ;  surely  one  who  had  a 
grain  of  understanding  would  answer  with  manly  scorn 
and  with  kindling  indignation.  But  our  poor  young 
fool,  who  was  so  confident  of  himself,  yields  without  a 
struggle  ;  with  her  mere  talk,  playing  upon  his  vanity, 
she  bends  him  as  if  he  were  a  water- weed  in  a  stream — 
her  appeals  to  his  self-admiration  drive  him  forth  as 
easily  as  the  goads  urge  an  ox  to  the  slaughter- 
house. 

And  now  you  may  watch  him  going  after  her  to 
destruction ! 

Is  there  not  a  pathos  in  the  sight  of  an  ox  going  to 
the  slaughter  ?  The  poor  dumb  creature  is  lured  by 
the  offer  of  food  or  driven  by  the  lash  of  the  driver. 
It  enters  the  slaughter-house  as  if  it  were  a  stall  for 
rest  and  refreshment ;  it  has  no  idea  that  ''  it  is  for  its 
life."  The  butcher  knows  ;  the  bystanders  understand 
the  signs;  but  it  is  perfectly  insensible,  taking  a 
transitory  pleasure  in  the  unwonted  attentions  which 
are  really  the  portents  of  death.  It  is  not  endeared  to 
us  by  any  special  interest  or  affection ;  the  dull,  stupid 
life  has  never  come  into  any  close  connection  with  ours. 
It  has  never  been  to  us  like  a  favourite  dog,  or  a  pet 
bird  that  has  cheered  our  solitary  hours.  It  gave  us 
no  response  when  we  spoke  to  it  or  stroked  its  sleek 
hide.  It  was  merely  an  animal.  But  yet  it  moves  our 
pity  at  this  supreme  moment  of  its  life ;  we  do  not  like 


vii.6.]  REALISM  IN  MORAL    TEACHING.  99 

to  think  of  the  heavy  blow  which  will  soon  lay  the 
great  slow-pacing  form  prostrate  and  still  in  death. 

Here  is  an  ox  going  to  the  slaughter, — but  it  is  a 
fellow-man,  a  young  man,  not  meant  for  ignominious 
death,  capable  of  a  good  and  noble  life.  The  poor 
degraded  woman  who  lures  him  to  his  ruin  has  no  such 
motive  of  serviceableness  as  the  butcher  has.  By  a 
malign  influence  she  attracts  him,  an  influence  even 
more  fatal  to  herself  than  to  him.  And  he  appears 
quite  insensible, — occupied  entirely  with  reflections  on 
his  glossy  skin  and  goodly  form  ;  not  suspecting  that 
bystanders  have  any  other  sentiment  than  admiration 
of  his  attractions  and  approval  of  his  manliness,  he 
goes  quietly,  unresistingly,  lured  rather  than  driven, 
to  the  slaughter-house. 

The  effect  of  comparison  with  dumb  animals  is 
heightened  by  throwing  in  a  more  direct  comparison 
with  other  human  beings.  Transposing  the  words, 
with  Delitzsch,  as  is  evidently  necessary  in  order  to 
preserve  the  parallelism  of  the  similitude,  we  find  this 
little  touch  :  "  He  goeth  after  her  straightway,  as  a  fool 
to  the  correction  of  the  fetters," — as  if  the  Teacher  would 
remind  us  that  the  fate  of  the  young  man,  tragic  as  it 
is,  is  yet  quite  devoid  of  the  noble  aspects  of  tragedy. 
This  clause  is  a  kind  of  afterthought,  a  modification. 
"Did  we  say  that  he  is  like  the  ox  going  to  the  slaughter? 
— nay,  there  is  a  certain  dignity  in  that  image,  for  the  ox 
is  innocent  of  its  own  doom,  and  by  its  death  many  will 
benefit ;  with  our  pity  for  it  we  cannot  but  mingle  a 
certain  gratitude,  and  we  find  no  room  for  censure ; 
but  this  entrapped  weakling  is  after  all  only  a  fool,  of 
no  service  or  interest  to  any  one,  without  any  of  the 
dignity  of  our  good  domestic  cattle  ;  in  his  corrupt  and 


100  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

witless  heart  is  no  innocence  which  should  make  us 
mourn.  And  the  punishment  he  goes  to,  though  it  is 
ruin,  is  so  mean  and  degrading  that  it  awakes  the  jeers 
and  scorn  of  the  beholders.  As  if  he  were  in  the 
village  stocks,  he  will  be  exposed  to  eyes  which  laugh 
while  they  despise  him.  Those  who  are  impure  like 
himself  will  leer  at  him  ;  those  who  are  pure  will  avert 
their  glance  with  an  ill-disguised  contempt."  There, 
then,  goes  the  ox  to  the  slaughter ;  nay,  the  mere  empty- 
headed  fool  to  the  punishment  of  the  fetters,  which 
will  keep  him  out  of  further  mischief,  and  chain  him 
down  to  the  dumb  lifeless  creation  to  which  he  seems 
to  belong. 

But  the  scorn  changes  rapidly  to  pity.  Where  a 
fellow-creature  is  concerned  we  may  not  feel  contempt 
beyond  that  point  at  which  it  serves  as  a  rebuke,  and 
a  stimulus  to  better  things.  When  we  are  disposed 
to  turn  away  with  a  scornful  smile,  we  become  aware 
of  the  suffering  which  the  victim  of  his  own  sins  will 
endure.  It  will  be  like  an  arrow  striking  through  the 
liver.  Only  a  moment,  and  he  will  be  seized  with  the 
sharp  pain  which  follows  on  indulgence.  Oh  the 
nausea  and  the  loathing,  when  the  morning  breaks 
and  he  sees  in  all  their  naked  repulsiveness  the  things 
which  he  allowed  to  fascinate  him  yester-eve  !  What  a 
bitter  taste  is  in  his  mouth  ;  what  a  ghastly  and  livid 
hue  is  on  the  cheek  which  he  imagined  fair !  He  is 
pierced  ;  to  miserable  physical  sufferings  is  joined  a 
sense  of  unspeakable  degradation,  a  wretched  depres- 
sion of  spirits,  a  wish  to  die  which  is  balanced  in 
horrid  equilibrium  by  a  fear  of  death. 

And  now  he  will  arise  and  flee  out  of  this  loathly 
house,  which  seems  to  be  strewn  with  dead  men's  bones 


vii.6.]  REALISM  IN  MORAL    TEACHING. 


and  haunted  by  the  moaning  spirits  of  the  mighty  host 
which  have  here  gone  down  into  Sheol.  But  what 
is  this  ?  He  cannot  flee.  He  is  held  hke  a  bird  in 
the  snare,  which  beats  its  wings  and  tries  to  fly  in 
vain  ;  the  soft  yielding  net  will  rise  and  fall  with  its 
efforts,  but  will  not  suffer  it  to  escape.  He  cannot  flee, 
for  if  he  should  escape  those  fatal  doors,  before  to- 
morrow's sun  sets  he  will  be  seized  with  an  over- 
mastering passion,  a  craving  which  is  like  the  gnawing 
of  a  vulture  at  the  liver ;  by  an  impulse  which  he  can- 
not resist  he  will  be  drawn  back  to  that  very  corner  ; 
there  will  not  be  again  any  raptures,  real  or  imagined, 
only  racking  and  tormenting  desires ;  there  will  be  no 
fascination  of  sight  or  scent  or  taste ;  all  will  appear  as 
it  is — revolting;  the  perfumes  will  all  be  rank  and 
sickly,  the  meat  will  all  be  blighted  and  fly-blown ;  but 
none  the  less  he  must  back  ;  there,  poor,  miserable, 
quivering  bird,  he  must  render  himself,  and  must  take 
his  fill  of — loves  ?  no,  of  maudlin  rapture  and  burning 
disgust ;  solace  himself?  no,  but  excite  a  desire  which 
grows  with  every  satisfaction,  which  slowly  and  surely, 
like  that  loathsome  monster  of  the  seas,  slides  its  cling- 
ing suckers  around  him,  and  holds  him  in  an  embrace 
more  and  more  deadly  until  he  finally  succumbs. 

Then  he  perceives  that  the  fatal  step  that  he  took 
was  "  for  his  life,"  that  is,  his  life  was  at  stake.  When 
he  entered  into  the  trap,  the  die  was  cast ;  hope  was 
abandoned  as  he  entered  there.  The  house  which 
appeared  so  attractive  was  a  mere  covered  way  to  hell. 
The  chambers  which  promised  such  imagined  delights 
were  on  an  incline  which  sloped  down  to  death. 

Look  at  him,  during  that  brief  passage  from  his 
fooHsh  heedlessness  to  his  irretrievable  ruin,  a  Rake's 


102  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

Progress  presented  in  simple  and  vivid  pictures,  which 
are  so  terrible  because  they  are  so  absolutely  true. 

After  gazing  for  a  few  minutes  upon  the  story,  do 
we  not  feel  its  power  ?  Are  there  not  many  who  are 
deaf  to  all  exhortations,  who  will  never  attend  to  the 
words  of  Wisdom's  mouth,  who  have  a  consummate  art 
in  stopping  their  ears  to  all  the  nobler  appeals  of  life, 
who  yet  will  be  arrested  by  this  clear  presentation  of 
a  fact,  by  the  teacher's  determination  not  to  blink  or 
underrate  any  of  the  attractions  and  seductions,  and  by 
his  equal  determination  not  to  disguise  or  diminish  any 
of  the  frightful  results  ? 

We  may  cherish  the  sweetness  and  the  purity  which 
reticence  will  often  preserve,  but  when  the  sweetness 
and  the  purity  are  lost,  reticence  will  not  bring  them 
back,  and  duty  seems  to  require  that  we  should  lay 
aside  our  fastidiousness  and  speak  out  boldly  in  order 
to  save  the  soul  of  our  brother. 

But  after  dwelling  on  such  a  picture  as  this  there  is 
a  thought  which  naturally  occurs  to  us  ;  in  our  hearts 
a  yearning  awakes  which  the  book  of  Proverbs  is 
not  capable  of  meeting.  Warnings  so  terrible,  early 
instilled  into  the  minds  of  our  young  men,  may  by 
God's  grace  be  effectual  in  saving  them  from  the  decline 
into  those  evil  ways,  and  from  going  astray  in  the  paths 
of  sin.  Such  warnings  ought  to  be  given,  although 
they  are  painful  and  difficult  to  give.  But  when  we 
have  gone  wrong  through  lack  of  instruction,  when  a 
guilty  silence  has  prevented  our  teachers  from  caution- 
ing us,  while  the  corrupt  habits  of  society  have  drawn  us 
insensibly  into  sin,  and  a  thousand  glozening  excuses 
have  veiled  from  our  eyes  the  danger  until  it  is  too 
late,  is  there  nothing  left  for  us  but  to  sink  deeper  and 


vii.6.]  REALISM  IN  MORAL    TEACHING.  103 

deeper  into  the  slough,  and  to  issue  from  it  only  to 
emerge  in  the  chambers  of  death  ? 

To  this  question  Jesus  gives  the  answer.  He  alone 
can  give  it.  Even  that  personified  Wisdom  whose 
lofty  and  philosophical  utterances  we  shall  hear  in  the 
next  chapter,  is  not  enough.  No  advice,  no  counsel, 
no  purity,  no  sanctity  of  example  can  avail.  It  is 
useless  to  upbraid  a  man  with  his  sins  when  he  is 
bound  hand  and  foot  with  them  and  cannot  escape.  It 
is  a  mockery  to  point  out,  what  is  only  too  obvious, 
that  without  holiness  no  man  can  see  God,  at  a  moment 
when  the  miserable  victim  of  sin  can  see  nothing  clearly 
except  the  fact  that  he  is  without  holiness.  ''The  pure 
in  heart  shall  see  God  "  is  an  announcement  of  exquisite 
beauty,  it  has  a  music  which  is  like  the  music  of  the 
spheres,  a  music  at  which  the  doors  of  heaven  seem 
to  swing  open ;  but  it  is  merely  a  sentence  of  doom 
to  those  who  are  not  pure  in  heart.  Jesus  meets  the 
corrupt  and  ruined  nature  with  the  assurance  that  He 
has  come  "  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost." 
And  lest  a  mere  assertion  should  prove  ineffectual  to 
the  materialised  and  fallen  spirit,  Jesus  came  and  pre- 
sented in  the  realism  of  the  Cross  a  picture  of  Redemp- 
tion which  could  strike  hearts  that  are  too  gross  to  feel 
and  too  deaf  to  hear.  It  might  be  possible  to  work 
out  ideally  the  redemption  of  man  in  the  unseen  and 
spiritual  world.  But  actually,  for  men  whose  very  sin 
makes  them  unspiritual,  there  seems  to  be  no  way  of 
salvation  which  does  not  approach  them  in  a  tangible 
form.  The  horrible  corruption  and  ruin  of  our  physical 
nature,  which  is  the  work  of  sin,  could  be  met  only  by 
the  Incarnation,  which  should  work  out  a  redemption 
through  the  flesh. 


104  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

Accordingly,  here  is  a  wonder  which  none  can  ex- 
plain, but  which  none  can  gainsay.  When  the  victim 
of  fleshly  sin,  suffering  from  the  arrow  which  has 
pierced  his  liver,  handed  over  as  it  seems  to  despair, 
is  led  to  gaze  upon  the  Crucified  Christ,  and  to  under- 
stand the  meaning  of  His  bearing  our  sins  in  His  own 
body  on  the  tree,  he  is  touched,  he  is  led  to  repent- 
ance, he  is  created  anew,  his  flesh  comes  again  to  him 
as  a  little  child,  he  can  offer  up  to  God  the  sacrifice  of  a 
contrite  heart,  and  he  is  cleansed. 

This  is  a  fact  which  has  been  verified  again  and 
again  by  experience.  And  they  who  have  marked  the 
power  of  the  Cross  can  never  sufficiently  admire  the 
wisdom  and  the  love  of  God,  who  works  by  ways  so 
entirely  unlike  our  ways,  and  has  resources  at  His 
command  which  surpass  our  conception  and  baffle  our 
explanation. 

If  there  is  a  man  literally  broken  down  and  diseased 
with  sin,  enfeebled  in  will  and  purpose,  tormented  by 
his  evil  appetite  so  that  he  seems  like  one  possessed, 
the  wisest  counsels  may  be  without  any  effect ;  paint  in 
the  most  vivid  hues  the  horrible  consequences  of  his 
sin,  but  he  will  remain  unmoved ;  apply  the  coercion  of 
a  prison  and  all  the  punishments  which  are  at  the 
disposal  of  an  earthly  judge,  and  he  will  return  to  his 
vicious  life  with  a  gusto  increased  by  his  recuperated 
physical  strength;  present  to  him  the  most  touching 
appeals  of  wife  and  children  and  friends,  and  while 
he  sheds  sentimental  tears  he  will  continue  to  run  the 
downward  way.  But  let  him  be  arrested  by  the  spectacle 
of  Christ  crucified  for  him,  let  the  moving  thought  of 
that  priceless  love  and  untold  suffering  stu"  in  his  heart, 
let  his  eyes  be  lifted  never  so  faintly  to  those  eyes  of 


vii.6.]  REALISM  IN  MORAL    TEACHING.  105 

Divine  compassion, — and  though  he  seemed  to  have 
entered  the  very  precincts  of  the  grave,  though  the 
heart  within  him  seemed  to  have  died  and  the  con- 
science seemed  to  be  seared  with  a  hot  iron,  you  will 
observe  at  once  the  signs  of  returning  animation ;  a  cry 
will  go  up  from  the  lips,  a  sob  will  convulse  the  frame, 
a  light  of  passionate  hope  will  come  into  the  eyes. 
Christ  has  touched  him.  Christ  is  merciful.  Christ  is 
powerful.     Christ  will  save. 

Ah,  if  I  speak  to  one  who  is  bound  with  the  cords 
of  his  sin,  helplessly  fettered  and  manacled,  dead  as  it 
were  in  trespasses,  I  know  there  is  no  other  name  to 
mention  to  you,  no  other  hope  to  hold  out  to  you. 
Though  I  knew  all  science,  I  could  not  effectually  help 
you  ;  though  I  could  command  all  the  springs  of  human 
feeling,  I  could  not  stir  you  from  your  apathy,  or  satisfy 
the  first  cries  of  your  awaking  conscience.  But  it  is 
permitted  to  me  to  preach  unto  you — not  abstract 
Wisdom,  but — Jesus,  who  received  that  name  because 
He  should  save  His  people  from  their  sins. 


VIII. 

THE    FIRST-BORN    OF    THE    CREATOR. 

"  Doth  not  Wisdom  cry?  " — Prov.  viii.  I. 

IN  the  last  chapter  a  dark  and  revolting  picture  of 
Vice  was  drawn.  This  chapter  contains  a  lovely 
and  living  picture  of  Wisdom.  In  this  contrast,  as  we 
have  already  seen,  Vice  can  be  presented  as  a  vicious 
woman,  because  it  is  unhappily  only  too  easy  to  find 
such  an  incarnation  in  actual  experience ;  Wisdom,  on 
the  other  hand,  cannot  be  presented  as  an  actual 
person,  but  only  as  a  personification,  because  there 
was,  as  yet,  no  Incarnation  of  Wisdom ;  far  from  it, 
Solomon,  the  wisest  of  men,  the  framer  of  many  wise 
proverbs,  had  been  in  practical  conduct  an  incarnation 
of  folly  rather  than  of  wisdom,  had  himself  become  a 
proverb  for  a  wise  and  understanding  heart  in  com- 
bination with  a  dark  and  vicious  life.  Yet  how  could 
the  teacher  fail  to  feel  that  some  day  there  must  be  an 
Incarnate  Wisdom,  a  contrast  to  the  Incarnate  Vice,  a 
conqueror  and  destroyer  of  it  ?  In  describing  Wisdom 
personified,  and  in  following  out  her  sweet  and  high- 
souled  utterance,  the  teacher  unconsciously  to  himself 
becomes  a  prophet,  and  presents,  as  we  shall  see,  a 
faint  and  wavering  image  of  Him  who  of  God  was  to 
be  made  unto  men  Wisdom,  of  Him  who  was  actually 


THE  FIRST-BORN  OF  THE   CREATOR.  107 


to  live  a  concrete  human  life  embodying  the  Divine 
Wisdom  as  completely  as  many  poor  stained  human 
lives  have  embodied  the  undivine  folly  of  vice.  The 
description,  then,  is  an  adumbration  of  something  as 
3'et  not  seen  or  fully  understood  ;  we  must  be  careful 
not  to  spoil  its  meaning  by  representing  it  as  more,  and 
by  attempting  to  press  the  details  in  explanation  of  the 
being  and  the  work  of  Christ.  We  shall  do  wisely  to 
look  at  the  whole  picture  as  it  formed  itself  before  the 
eye  of  the  writer,  and  to  abstain  from  introducing  into 
it  colours  or  shades  of  our  own.  Our  first  task  must 
be  to  follow  the  movement  of  the  chapter  as  carefully 
as  possible. 

Wisdom,  unlike  the  vicious  woman  who  lurks  in  the 
twilight  at  the  corner  of  the  street  which  contains  her 
lair,  stands  in  the  open  places  ;  she  makes  herself  as 
manifest  as  may  be  by  occupying  some  elevated  posi- 
tion, from  which  her  ringing  voice  may  be  heard  down 
the  streets  and  up  the  cross-ways,  and  may  attract  the 
attention  of  those  who  are  entering  the  city  gates  or 
the  doors  of  the  houses.  As  her  voice  is  strong  and 
clear,  so  her  words  are  full  and  rounded  ;  there  is  no 
whispering,  no  muttering,  no  dark  hint,  no  subtle 
incitement  to  secret  pleasures  ;  her  tone  is  breezy  and 
stirring  as  the  dawn ;  there  is  something  about  it 
which  makes  one  involuntarily  think  of  the  open  air,' 
and  the  wide  sky,  and  the  great  works  of  God. ^  There 
is  the  beauty  of  goodness  in  all  that  she  says  ;  there  is 
the  charming  directness  and  openness  of  truth  ;  she 
abhors  tortuous  and  obscure  ways  ;  and  if  some  of  her 
sayings   seem   paradoxes   or  enigmas,  a  little  difficult 

'  Prov.  viii.   1-6. 


Io8  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

to  understand,  that  is  the  fault  of  the  hearer  ;  to  a 
tortuous  mind  straight  things  appear  crooked ;  to  the 
ignorant  and  uninstructed  mind  the  eternal  laws  of 
God  appear  foolishness  ;  but  all  that  she  says  is  plain 
to  one  who  understands,  and  right  to  those  who  find 
knowledge.^  She  walks  always  in  a  certain  and  un- 
deviating  course — it  is  the  way  of  righteousness  and 
judgment — and  only  those  who  tread  the  same  path 
can  expect  to  perceive  the  meaning  of  what  she  says, 
or  to  appreciate  the  soundness  of  all  her  counsels.^ 
And  now  she  proclaims  the  grounds  on  which  she 
demands  the  attention  of  men,  in  a  noble  appeal,  which 
rises  to  a  passionate  eloquence  and  deepens  in  spiritual 
significance  as  it  advances.  Roughly  speaking,  this 
appeal  seems  to  fall  into  two  parts  :  from  ver.  lo  to 
ver.  2 1  the  obvious  advantages  of  obeying  her  voice  are 
declared,  but  at  ver.  22  the  discourse  reaches  a  higher 
level,  and  she  claims  obedience  because  of  her  essential 
nature  and  her  eternal  place  in  the  universe  of  created 
things. 

In  the  first  part  Wisdom  solemnly  states  her  own 
value,  as  compared  with  the  valuables  which  men 
usually  covet — silver,  and  gold,  and  precious  stones. 
That  she  is  of  more  account  than  these,  appears  from 
the  fact  that  they  are  but  parts  of  her  gifts.  In  her 
train  come  riches ;  but  they  differ  from  ordinary  riches 
in  being  durable ;  her  faithful  followers  obtain  substan- 
tial wealth,  and  their  treasuries  insensibly  fill.^  To 
riches  she  adds  honour,  a  crown  which  worldly  riches 
seldom  bring,  and,  what  is  better  still,  the  honour 
which   she   confers   is  associated  with  righteousness, 

'  Prov.  viii.  7-9.  ^  Prov.  viii.  20.         '  Prov.  viii.  8,  9. 


viii.  I.]        THE  FIRST-BORN  OF  THE   CREATOR.  loo 

while  the  spurious  honour  which  is  commonly  ren- 
dered to  riches,  being  conferred  without  any  moral 
implication,  is  devoid  of  any  moral  appreciation.^  But 
after  all,  she  herself  is  her  own  best  reward ;  the  pros- 
perity which  accompanies  her  seems  trivial  compared 
with  the  desirableness  of  her  own  person.  Her 
queenly  dwelling  is  prudence,  and  at  her  touch  all  the 
charmed  regions  of  knowledge  and  discovery  fly  open  ; 
they  who  dwell  with  her  and  are  admitted  to  share  her 
secrets  find  the  fruit  and  the  increase  of  the  intellectual 
life  incomparably  better  than  fine  gold  or  choice  silver. 
And  what  gives  to  her  endowments  their  peculiar  com- 
pleteness is  that  she  requires  a  moral  culture  to  go 
hand  in  hand  with  mental  development ;  and  leading 
her  disciples  to  hate  evil,  and  to  avoid  the  arrogance 
and  the  pride  of  the  intellect,  she  rescues  knowledge 
from  becoming  a  mere  barren  accumulation  of  facts, 
and  keeps  it  always  in  contact  with  the  humanities  and 
with  life.  Indeed,  she  finds  it  one  great  part  of  her 
mighty  task  to  instruct  the  rulers  of  men,  and  to  fit  them 
for  the  fulfilment  of  their  high  functions.  Her  queenly 
prerogative  she  shares  with  all  her  faithful  followers. 
Since  Wisdom  is  the  actual  arbiter  of  human  life,  the 
wise  man  is,  as  the  Stoics  would  have  said,  a  king; 
nor  can  any  king  be  recognized  or  tolerated  who  is  not 
wise.- 

And  all  these  advantages  of  wealth  and  honour, 
of  knowledge,  and  power,  and  righteousness,  are  put 
within  the  reach  of  every  one.  Wisdom  is  no  churl 
in  loving ;  she  loves  all  who  love  her.  She  does 
not    seek  to  withdraw  herself  from   men ;    rather  she 

'  Prov.  viii.  i8.  -  Prov.  viii,  10-16. 


no  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


chooses  the  places  and  the  ways  in  which  she  can  best 
attract  them.  Queenly  as  she  is,  she  condescends  to 
woo  them.  Her  invitations  are  general,  even  uni- 
versal. And  therefore  if  any  do  not  find  her,  it  is 
because  they  do  not  seek  her ;  if  any  do  not  share  in 
her  rich  gifts  and  graces,  it  is  because  they  will  not 
•take  the  trouble  to  claim  them.^ 

But  now  we  pass  on  to  the  second  ground  of  appeal. 
Wisdom  unveils  herself,  discloses  her  origin,  shows  her 
heart,  stands  for  a  moment  on  her  high  celestial  throne, 
that  she  may  make  her  claims  upon  the  sons  of  men 
more  irresistible.  She  was  the  first  creation  of  God.^ 
Before  the  earth  issued  out  of  nothingness  she  was 
there.  In  joyous  activity,  daily  full  of  delight,  she  was 
beside  God,  as  an  architect,  in  the  forming  of  the  world. 
She  saw  the  great  earth  shaped  and  clothed  for  the  first 
time  in  the  mantle  of  its  floods,  and  made  musical  with 
the  sound  of  its  fountains.  She  saw  the  mountains  and 
the  hills  built  up  from  their  foundations.  She  saw  the 
formation  of  the  dry  land,  and  of  the  atoms  of  dust  which 
go  to  make  the  ground.^  She  saw  the  sky  spread  out  as 
a  firm  vault  to  cover  the  earth ;  and  she  saw  God  when 

'  Prov.  viii.  17. 

^  Prov.  viii.  22.  There  is  unfortunately  an  ambiguity  in  the  word 
n^i^.  It  may  mean  either  "to  possess"  or  "to  create."  Cf.  Gen. 
xiv.  19,  22,  where  it  is  impossible  to  decide  between  "Possessor  of  the 
earth  "  and  "Maker  of  the  earth."  That  the  word  might  be  rendered 
"got"  in  this  passage  is  evident  from  iv.  7,  where  it  is  employed  ;  on  the 
other  hand,  the  LXX.  renders  ^KTtae,  and  the  author  of  Ecclesiasticus 
evidently  took  it  in  this  sense;  c/.  i.  4,  "Wisdom  hath  been  created 
before  all  things,  and  the  understanding  of  prudence  from  everlasting." 
In  Gen.  iv.  it  is  rendered  "  gotten,"  but  it  is  quite  possible  that  the 
joyful  mother  called  her  son  j^j^  with  the  feeling  that  she  had  created 
him  with  the  help  of  the  Lord. 
*  Prov.  viii.  26. 


i.  I.]        THE  FIRST-BORN  OF  THE   CREATOR.  iii 


"...  in  His  hand 
He  took  the  golden  compasses,  prepared 
In  God's  eternal  store,  to  circumscribe 
This  universe  and  all  created  things."' 

She  saw  the  mighty  tides  of  the  ocean  restricted  to 
their  appointed  cisterns,  and  the  firm  outhnes  of  the 
land  fixed  as  their  impassable  barriers.^  And  this  very 
Wisdom,  who  thus  presided  over  the  formation  of  land, 
and  sea,  and  sky,  is  she  who  still  sports  with  God's 
fruitful  earth — yes,  sports,  for  the  great  characteristic  of 
Wisdom  is  her  exultant  cheerfulness,  and  it  must  by  no 
means  be  supposed  that  the  foolish  and  the  wicked  have 
all  the  gaiety  and  mirth  as  their  own.^     This  Wisdom 

'  Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  vii.  225. 

^  Prov.  viii.  29.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  point  out  that  the  language 
betra3^s  a  complete  ignorance  of  those  facts  with  which  astronomy 
and  geology  have  made  us  familiar.  The  author  puts  into  the  lips  of 
"Wisdom  the  scientific  conceptions  of  his  own  time,  when  the  earth 
was  regarded  as  a  flat  surface,  covered  by  a  solid  circular  vault,  in 
which  the  sun,  and  moon,  and  stars  were  fixed.  The  "circle  upon  the 
flood "  is  probably  the  apparent  circle  which  is  suggested  to  the 
observer  by  the  horizon.  No  one  had  as  yet  dreamed  that  the  moun- 
tains were  thrown  up  by,  not  settled  in,  the  surface  of  the  earth,  nor 
was  it  dreamed  that  the  bounds  of  the  sea  are  far  from  being  settled, 
but  subject  to  gradual  variations,  and  even  to  cataclysmal  changes. 
It  may  be  observed,  however,  that  the  vo3'age  of  the  C/ial/enger  seems 
to  have  established  beyond  question  that  the  great  outlines  of  land 
and  ocean  have  remained  approximately  the  same  from  the  beginning. 
Ocean  islands  are  of  volcanic  origin  or  the  work  of  the  coral-insect ; 
but  the  great  continents  and  all  contained  within  the  fringe  of  a 
thousand-fathom  depth  from  their  shores  have  remained  practically 
unaltered  despite  the  numerous  partial  upheavals  or  submergences. 

A  passage  so  full  of  spiritual  and  moral  significance,  and  yet  so 
entirely  untouched  by  what  are  to  us  the  elementary  conclusions  of 
science,  should  furnish  a  valuable  criterion  in  estimating  what  we  are 
to  understand  by  the  Inspiration  of  such  a  book  as  this. 

3  C/.  X.  23. 


112  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

is  she  too  who  finds  her  peculiar  delight  with  the  sons 
of  men. 

Is  it  not  obvious,  then,  that  men,  who  are  her  sons, 
ought  to  give  ear  to  her  counsels  ?  What  could  esta- 
blish a  stronger  claim  for  attention  than  this  ancient 
origin,  this  honourable  part  in  laying  the  very  founda- 
tions of  the  earth,  and  this  special  interest  in  human 
life  from  the  beginning?  Raised  to  this  high  level, 
where  we  command  so  wide  a  prospect,  are  we  not 
forced  to  see  that  it  is  our  duty,  our  interest,  our  joy, 
to  come  as  humble  suitors  to  the  gates  of  Wisdom,  and 
there  to  watch,  and  wait,  and  seek  until  we  may  obtain 
admission  ?  Must  we  not  search  after  her,  when  in 
finding  her  we  find  hfe  and  obtain  favour  of  the  Lord  ? 
Can  we  not  perceive  that  to  miss  her  is  to  miss  life,  to 
wrong  our  own  souls — to  hate  her  is  to  love  death? 
Evidently  her  eagerness  to  win  us  is  entirely  disin- 
terested ;  though  she  delights  in  us,  she  could  easily 
dispense  with  us  ;  on  the  other  hand,  though  we  do  not 
delight  in  her,  though  we  constantly  turn  a  deaf  ear  to 
her,  and  refuse  to  walk  in  her  ways,  she  is  indispensable 
to  us. 

Such  a  passage  as  this  gives  rise  to  many  reflections, 
and  the  longer  we  meditate  upon  it  the  more  rich  and 
suggestive  it  appears.  Let  us  try  to  follow  out  some 
of  the  thoughts  which  readily  present  themselves,  and 
especially  such  as  are  suggested  by  the  verses  which 
may  be  described  as  the  poem  of  creation. 

First  of  all,  here  is  the  noble  idea  which  overturns 
at  a  touch  all  m3^thological  speculations  about  the 
origin  of  things — an  idea  which  is  in   deep  harmony 

*  Prov.  viii.  22-31. 


viii.  I.]        THE  FIRST-BORN  OF   THE   CREATOR.  113 

with  all  the  best  knowledge  of  our  own  time — that 
there  is  nothing  fortuitous  in  the  creation  of  the  world  ; 
the  Creator  is  not  a  blind  Force,  but  an  Intelligent  Being 
whose  first  creation  is  wisdom.  He  is  the  origin  of  a 
Law  by  which  He  means  to  bind  Himself;  arbitrariness 
finds  no  place  in  His  counsels  ;  accident  has  no  part 
in  His  works  ;  in  Wisdom  hath  He  formed  them  all.  In 
all  heathen  conceptions  of  creation  caprice  is  supreme, 
law  has  no  place,  blind  force  works  in  this  way  or 
that,  either  by  the  compulsion  of  a  Necessity  which  is 
stronger  than  the  gods,  or  by  freaks  and  whims  of  the 
gods  which  would  be  contemptible  even  in  men.  But 
here  is  the  clear  recognition  of  the  principle  that  God's 
Law  is  a  law  also  to  Himself,  and  that  His  law  is 
wisdom.  He  creates  the  world  as  an  outcome  of  His 
own  wise  and  holy  design,  so  that  "nothing  walks  with 
aimless  feet."  It  is  on  this  theological  conception  that 
the  possibility  of  science  depends.  Until  the  universe 
is  recognized  as  an  ordered  and  intelligible  system  the 
ordered  and  intelligent  study  of  it  cannot  begin.  As 
long  as  the  arbitrary  and  fortuitous  are  supposed  to 
hold  sway  inquiry  is  paralyzed  at  its  starting-point. 

It  may,  however,  be  suggested  that  the  doctrine  of 
Evolution,  which  scientific  men  are  almost  unanimous 
in  accepting,  is  inconsistent  with  this  idea  of  Creation. 
By  this  doctrine  our  attention  is  directed  to  the  appa- 
rently disordered  collision  of  forces,  and  the  struggle 
for  existence  out  of  which  the  order  and  progress  of 
life  are  educed,  and  it  is  hastily  assumed  that  a  Wise 
Intelligence  would  not  work  in  this  way,  but  would 
exhibit  more  economy  of  resources,  more  simplicity  and 
directness  of  method,  and  more  inevitableness  of  result. 
But  may  we  not  say  that  the  apparent  fortuitousness 

8 


114  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

with  which  the  results  are  achieved  is  the  clearest 
evidence  of  the  wise  purpose  which  orders  and  directs 
the  process  ?  for  about  the  results  there  can  be  no 
question  ;  order,  beauty,  fitness  ever3^where  prevail ;  life 
emerges  from  the  inorganic,  thought  from  life,  morality 
and  religion  from  thought.  The  more  our  attention  is 
called  to  the  apparently  accidental  steps  by  which  these 
results  are  reached,  the  more  persuaded  must  we  become 
that  a  great  and  a  wise  law  was  at  work,  that  by  the 
side  of  the  Creator,  as  a  master  workman,  was  Wisdom 
from  the  beginning.  Such  a  passage  as  this,  then, 
prepares  the  way  for  all  science,  and  furnishes  the  true 
conceptions  without  which  science  would  be  sterile.  It 
takes  us  at  a  step  out  of  a  pagan  into  a  truly  religious 
mode  of  thinking  ;  it  leads  us  out  of  the  misty  regions 
of  superstition  to  the  luminous  threshold  of  the  House 
of  Knowledge.  It  may  be  said  with  truth  that  many 
scientific  facts  which  are  known  to  us  were  not  known 
to  the  writer  ;  and  this  may  raise  a  prejudice  against 
our  book  in  those  minds  which  can  tolerate  no  thought 
except  that  of  the  present  generation,  and  appreciate 
no  knowledge  which  is  not,  as  it  were,  brought  up  to 
date;  but  the  fruitful  conception  is  here,  here  is  the 
right  way  of  regarding  the  universe,  here  the  preparation  , 
of  all  science. 

And  now  to  advance  to  another  idea  which  is  im- 
plied in  the  passage,  the  idea  that  in  the  very  con- 
ception of  the  universe  human  life  was  contemplated, 
and  regarded  with  a  peculiar  delight  by  the  Wisdom  of 
God.  The  place  which  Man  occupies  in  creation  has 
been  variously  estimated  in  different  religious  S3'stems 
and  by  different  religious  thinkers.  Sometimes  he 
has    been   regarded   as   the  centre  of  all   things,   the 


viii.  I.]        THE  FIRST-BORN   OF   THE  CREATOR.  115 

creature  for  whom  all  things  exist.  Then  a  reaction 
has  set  in,  and  he  has  been  treated  as  a  very  insignifi- 
cant and  possibly  transient  phenomenon  in  the  order  of 
things.  It  is  characteristic  of  the  Bible  that  it  presents 
a  balanced  view  of  this  question,  avoiding  extremes  in 
both  directions.  On  the  one  hand,  it  very  clearly 
recognizes  that  man  is  a  part  of  the  creation,  that  he 
belongs  to  it  because  he  springs  out  of  it,  and  rules 
over  it  only  in  so  far  as  he  conforms  to  it ;  on  the 
other  hand,  it  clearly  insists  on  that  relation  between 
man  and  his  Creator  which  is  hinted  at  here.  Man  is 
always  implicitly  connected  with  God  by  some  half- 
divine  mediator.  The  Wisdom  of  God  watches  with 
an  unmoved  heart  the  growth  of  the  physical  world, 
but  into  her  contemplation  of  mankind  there  enters 
a  peculiar  delight.  There  is  that  in  man  which  can 
listen  to  her  appeals,  can  listen  and  respond.  He  is 
capable  of  rising  to  the  point  of  view  from  which  she 
looks  out  upon  the  world,  and  can  even  see  himself  in 
the  light  in  which  she  sees  him.  In  a  word,  man,  with 
all  his  insignificance,  has  a  sublime  possibility  in  him, 
the  possibility  of  becoming  Hke  God  ;  in  this  he  stands 
quite  alone  among  created  things ;  it  is  this  whieh 
gives  him  his  pre-eminence.  Thus  our  passage,  while 
it  does  not  for  a  moment  imply  that  the  material 
universe  was  made  for  the  sake  of  man,  or  that  man 
in  himself  can  claim  a  superiority  over  the  other  crea- 
tures of  the  earth— and  so  far  takes  a  view  which  is 
very  popular  with  scientific  men — yet  parts  company 
with  the  philosophy  of  materialism  in  claiming  for  man 
a  place  altogether  unique,  because  he  has  within  him 
the  possibility  of  being  linked  to  God  by  means  of  the 
Wisdom  of  God. 


ii6  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

And  now  we  may  notice  another  implication  of  the 
passage.  While  Wisdom  celebrates  her  high  prerogative 
as  the  first-born  of  the  Creator  and  the  instrument  of 
the  creation,  and  urges  upon  men  as  parts  of  the  creation 
the  observance  of  the  Moral  Law,  she  is  implicitly 
teaching  the  great  truth  which  men  have  been  so  slow 
to  grasp,  that  the  law  of  practical  righteousness  is  of 
a  piece  with  the  very  laws  of  creation.  To  put  it  in 
another  form,  the  rules  of  right  conduct  are  really  the 
rules  of  the  universe  applied  to  human  life.  Laws  of 
nature,  as  they  are  called,  and  laws  of  morality  have 
their  origin  in  one  and  the  same  Being,  and  are  interpreted 
to  us  by  one  and  the  same  Wisdom.  It  would  be  well 
for  us  all  if  we  could  understand  how  far-reaching  this 
great  truth  is,  and  an  intelligent  study  of  this  passage 
certainly  helps  us  to  understand  it.  None  of  us,  in  our 
wildest  moments,  think  of  pitting  ourselves  against  the 
laws  of  nature.  We  do  not  murmur  against  the  law 
of  gravitation  ;  we  scrupulously  conform  to  it  so  far  as 
we  can,  knowing  that  if  we  do  not  it  will  be  the  worse 
for  us.  When  heavy  seas  are  breaking,  and  the  spirit 
of  the  winds  is  let  loose,  we  do  not  venture  on  the 
waves  in  a  small,  open  boat,  or  if  we  do,  we  accept  the 
consequences  without  complaint.  But  when  we  come 
to  deal  with  the  moral  law  we  entertain  some  idea  that 
it  is  elastic  and  uncertain,  that  its  requirements  may  be 
complied  with  or  not  at  pleasure,  and  that  we  may 
violate  its  eternal  principles  without  any  serious  loss  or 
injury.  But  the  truth  is,  the  Law  is  one.  The  only 
difference  arises  from  the  fact  that  while  the  natural 
laws,  applying  to  inanimate  objects  or  to  creatures 
which  enjoy  no  freedom  of  moral  life,  are  necessarily 
obeyed,  the  moral  rules  apply  to  conscious  reasoning 


viii.  I.J        THE  FIRST-BORN  OF  THE   CREATOR.  117 

creatures,  who,  possessed  of  freedom,  are  able  to  choose 
whether  they  will  obey  the  law  or  not.  Yes,  the  Law  is 
one,  and  breaches  of  the  Law  are  punished  inevitably 
both  in  the  natural  and  in  the  moral  sphere.  This 
same  Wisdom,  to  which  "wickedness  is  an  abomination/' 
and  which  therefore  exhorts  the  sons  of  men  to  walk  in 
the  ways  of  righteousness,  is  the  great  principle  which 
ordered  the  physical  universe  and  stamped  upon  it 
those  laws  of  uniformity  and  inevitableness  which 
Science  delights  to  record  and  to  illustrate. 

But  when  we  notice  how  the  Wisdom  who  is  here 
speaking  is  at  once  the  mouthpiece  of  the  laws  which 
underlie  the  whole  creation  and  of  the  laws  which 
govern  the  moral  life,  it  is  easy  to  perceive  how  this 
passage  becomes  a  foreshadowing  of  that  wonderful 
Being  who  of  God  is  made  unto  us  Wisdom  as  well  as 
Righteousness.  Or,  to  put  it  in  a  shghtly  different  way, 
we  are  able  to  perceive  how  this  passage  is  a  faint  and 
imperfect  glimpse  into  the  nature  and  the  work  of  Him 
whom  in  New  Testament  phraseology  we  call  the  Son 
of  God — faint  and  imperfect,  because  this  Wisdom, 
although  represented  as  speaking,  is  still  only  an 
abstraction,  a  personification,  and  her  relation  both  to 
God  and  to  man  is  described  in  very  vague  and  indefinite 
language  ;  and  yet,  though  faint  and  imperfect,  very 
true  as  far  as  it  goes,  for  it  recognizes  with  wonderful 
distinctness  the  three  truths  which  we  have  just  been 
considering,  truths  that  have  become  luminous  for  us 
in  Christ ;  it  recognizes,  firstly,  that  the  world  was  the 
creation  of  Wisdom,  of  Reason,  or,  if  we  may  use  the 
New  Testament  term,  of  the  Word ;  it  recognizes, 
secondly,  that  the  thought  of  Man  was  contained  in  the 
very  thought  of  creation,  and  that  man  was  related  in 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


a  direct  and  unique  way  with  the  Creator ;  lastly^  it 
recognizes  that  goodness  lies  at  the  very  root  of  creation, 
and  that  therefore  natural  law  when  applied  to  human 
life  is  a  demand  for  righteousness. 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  that  this  glimpse,  this 
adumbration  of  a  great  truth,  which  was  only  to  become 
quite  clear  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord,  was  advanced  a 
little  in  clearness  and  completeness  by  a  book  which  is 
not  generally  considered  to  be  inspired,  the  so-called 
book  of  Wisdom,  in  a  passage  which  must  be  quoted. 
*'  For  she  [i.e.  Wisdom]  is  a  breath  of  the  power  of 
God,  and  a  pure  influence  flowing  from  the  glory  of 
the  Almighty  ;  therefore  can  no  defiled  thing  fall  into 
her.  For  she  is  the  brightness  of  the  everlasting 
light,  the  unspotted  mirror  of  the  power  of  God,  and 
the  image  of  His  goodness.  And  being  but  one, 
she  can  do  all  things  ;  and  remaining  in  herself,  she 
maketh  all  things  new  ;  and  in  all  ages  entering  into 
holy  souls,  she  maketh  them  friends  of  God  and 
prophets.  For  God  loveth  none  but  him  that  dwelleth 
with  Wisdom.  For  she  is  more  beautiful  than  the  sun, 
and  above  all  the  order  of  stars  ;  being  compared  with 
the  light,  she  is  found  before  it."^ 

In  this  passage  Wisdom  is  still  a  mere  impersona- 
tion, but  the  language  employed  is  evidently  very  near 
to  that  which  the  New  Testament  applies  to  Christ. 
When  Philo  came  to  treat  of  the  idea,  and  wished  to 

'  Wisdom  vii.  25-29.  The  book  of  Wisdom,  a  work  of  the  second 
century  B.C.,  at  one  time  had  a  place  in  the  canon,  and  owes  its 
exclusion,  in  all  probability,  to  the  fact  that  it  was  written  in  Greek; 
as  there  was  no  Hebrew  original,  it  was  evident  that  Solomon  was 
not  the  author.  But  the  use  which  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews 
makes  of  the  passage  quoted  in  the  text  may  suggest  how  very  un- 
necessary the  exclusion  from  the  canon  was. 


THE  FIRST-BORN  OF  THE   CREATOR.  119 


describe  this  intermediate  being  between  God  and  man, 
he  employed  another  term  ;  changing  the  feminine  into 
the  mascuHne,  he  spoke  of  it  as  the  Logos.  And 
this  expression!  is  adopted  by  the  Fourth  Gospel  in 
describing  the  Eternal  Son  before  He  became  flesh  ; 
the  Word  of  the  fuller  revelation  is  the  Wisdom  of  the 
Proverbs. 

How  far  Christ  recognized  in  this  impersonation 
of  our  book  a  description  or  representation  of  Himself 
it  is  impossible  to  say.  It  is  certain  that  on  one 
occasion,  in  defending  His  action  against  the  charges 
of  the  Pharisees,  He  declared,  "  Wisdom  is  justified 
of  her  children,"  ^  a  defence  which  can  be  most  simply 
explained  by  supposing  that  Wisdom  stands  for  Him- 
self. It  is  certain,  too-,  that  He  spoke  of  His  own  pre- 
existence,'^  and  that  the  Evangelist  assigns  to  Him  in 
that  life  before  the  Incarnation  a  position  not  unlike 
that  which  is  attributed  to  Wisdom  in  our  passage  : 
"  All  things  were  made  by  Him  ;  and  without  Him 
was  not  anything  made  that  hath  been  made.  .  .  . 
No  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time ;  the  only  begotten 
Son,  which  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  He  hath 
declared  Him."^  But  whether  our  Lord  expressly 
acknowledged  the  forecast  of  Himself  which  is  con- 
tained in  the  passage  or  not,  we  cannot  fail  to  mark 
with  joy  and  wonder  how  strikingly  all  that  is  best 
in  the  utterance  and  in  the  delineation  of  Wisdom  is 
produced,  concrete,  tangible,  real,  in  Him. 

He,  like  Wisdom  in  the  book  of  Proverbs,  appears 
in  the  busy  haunts  of  man,  appeals  to  them,  invites 
them    with  large,  open-armed  generosity.     His  voice 

'  Luke  vii.  35  ;2Matt.  xi.  19.  '^  John  viii.  58. 

^  John  i.  3,  18. 


120  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

is  to  the  sons  of  men.  He,  like  Wisdom,  can  say  with 
absolute  truth,  ^'All  the  words  of  My  mouth  are  in 
righteousness  ;  there  is  nothing  crooked  or  perverse 
in  them."  He  too  could  speak  of  His  teaching  as 
*'  plain  and  right/'  and  could  with  simple  literalness 
declare  that  His  words  were  more  precious  than  gold, 
while  obedience  to  Him  would  cause  men  "  to  inherit 
substance."  With  what  force  He  might  claim  that 
even  kings  rule  by  Him  we  shall  only  know  when 
the  kingdoms  of  the  world  have  become  His  in  their 
integrity ;  but  we  can  see  at  once  how  appropriate 
in  His  lips  is  the  beautiful  saying,  "  I  love  them  that 
love  Me,  and  those  that  seek  Me  early  shall  find  Me." 

With  equal  suitability  might  He,  the  First-born  of  all 
creation,  the  beginning  of  the  creation  of  God,  use  the 
sublime  language  which  follows.  And  He  too  could 
say  that  His  delight  was  with  the  sons  of  men.  Yes, 
how  much  that  means  to  us !  If  His  delight  had  not 
been  with  us,  how  could  ours  ever  have  been  with 
Him  ?  What  a  new  meaning  irradiates  every  human 
being  when  we  realize  that  with  him,  with  her,  is  the 
delight  of  the  Son  of  God  !  What  a  revelation  lies 
in  the  fact,  a  revelation  of  what  man  was  by  his  origin, 
made  in  the  image  of  God,  and  of  what  he  may  be  in 
the  last  event,  brought  to  "  the  fulness  of  the  measure 
of  the  stature  of  Christ."  We  must  not  speak  as  if 
He  delights  in  us  because  He  has  redeemed  us;  no, 
He  redeemed  us  because  He  delighted  in  us.  Is  not 
this  a  ground  on  which  He  may  appeal  to  us,  "  Now 
therefore,  my  sons,  hearken  unto  Me ;  for  blessed 
are  they  that  keep  My  ways  "  ?  And  can  we  not  say 
to  Him  with  a  fervour  which  the  cold  abstraction  of 
Wisdom  could  not  possibly  excite,  "We  would  watch 


viii.  I.]        THE  FIRST-BORN  OF  THE   CREATOR.  121 

daily  at  Thy  gates,  waiting  at  the  posts  of  Thy  doors. 
For  when  we  find  Thee  we  find  hfe  and  obtain 
favour  of  the  Lord.  When  we  sin  against  Thee  we 
wrong  our  own  souls ;  when  we  hate  Thee  we  love 
death  "  ? 

Yes,  in  place  of  this  ancient  Wisdom,  which,  stately 
and  lovely  as  she  is,  remains  always  a  little  intangible 
and  unapproachable,  Christ  is  made  unto  us  Wisdom, 
and  He  speaks  to  us  the  old  words  with  a  deeper 
meaning,  and  new  words  which  none  but  He  could 
ever  speak. 


IX. 

TIVO  VOICES  IN   THE  HIGH  PLACES   OF  THE  CITY. 

Ch.    IX.,    VV,     14    WITH    3,    AND    1 6    WITH    4. 

AFTER  the  lengthened  contrast  between  the  vicious 
woman  and  Wisdom  in  chaps,  vii.  and  viii.,  the 
introduction  of  the  book  closes  with  a  Httle  picture 
which  is  intended  to  repeat  and  sum  up  all  that  has 
gone  before.  It  is  a  peroration,  simple,  graphic,  and 
beautiful. 

There  is  a  kind  of  competition  between  Wisdom  and 
Folly,  between  Righteousness  and  Sin,  between  Virtue 
and  Vice;  and  the  allurements  of  the  two  are  disposed  in 
an  intentional  parallelism;  the  colouring  and  arrange- 
ment are  of  such  a  kind  that  it  becomes  incredible  how 
any  sensible  person,  or  for  that  matter  even  the  simple 
himself,  could  for  a  moment  hesitate  between  the  noble 
form  of  Wisdom  and  the  meretricious  attractions  of 
Folly.  The  two  voices  are  heard  in  the  high  places  of 
the  city ;  each  of  them  invites  the  passers-by,  especially 
the  simple  and  unsophisticated — the  one  into  her 
fair  palace,  the  other  into  her  foul  and  deadly  house. 
The  words  of  their  invitation  are  very  similar:  ''Whoso 
is  simple,  let  him  turn  in  hither :  as  for  him  that 
is  void  of  understanding,  she  saith  to  him ;  "  but  how 
different  is  the  burden  of  the  two  messages  !     Wisdom 


ix.  14,  16.]     TIVO   VOICES  IN   THE  HIGH  PLACES. 


123 


offers  life,  but  is  silent  about  enjoyment ;  Folly  offers 
enjoyment,  but  says  nothing  of  the  death  which  must 
surely  ensue. ^ 

First  of  all  we  will  give  our  attention  to  the  Palace 
of  Wisdom  and  the  voices  which  issue  from  it,  and  then 
we  will  note  for  the  last  time  the  features  and  the  arts 
of  Mistress  Folly. 

The  Palace  of  Wisdom  is  very  attractive ;  well  built 
and  well  furnished,  it  rings  with  the  sounds  of  hospitality; 
and,  with  its  open  colonnades,  it  seems  of  itself  to  invite 
all  passers-by  to  enter  in  as  guests.  It  is  reared  upon 
seven  well-hewn  marble  pillars,  in  a  quadrangular  form, 
with  the  entrance  side  left  wide  open.^  This  is  no 
shifting  tent  or  tottering  hut,  but  an  eternal  mansion, 
that  lacks  nothing  of  stability,  or  completeness,  or 
beauty.  Through  the  spacious  doorways  may  be  seen 
the  great  courtyard,  in  which  appear  the  preparations 
for  a  perpetual  feast.  The  beasts  are  killed  and 
dressed  ;  the  wine  stands  in  tall  flagons  ready  mixed 
for  drinking;  the  tables  are  spread  and  decked.  All 
is  open,  generous,  large,  a  contrast  to  that  unhallowed 
private  supper  to  which  the  unwary  youth  was  invited 


'  Cf.  for  this  contrast  between  the  two  xxiii.  26-28,  where  Wisdom 
speaks,  and  expressly  warns  against  her  rival. 

-  The  arrangement  of  the  house  is  that  of  an  open  courtyard, 
surrounded  with  apartments,  the  general  roof  supported  on  the  pillars 
thus 


0 

0 

0 

0 

0 

2 

L 

0 

124  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

by  his  seducer.^  There  are  no  secret  chambers,  no 
twilight  suggestions  and  insinuations  :  the  broad  Hght 
shines  over  all ;  there  is  a  promise  of  social  joy  ;  it 
seems  that  they  will  be  blessed  who  sit  down  together 
at  this  board.  And  now  the  beautiful  owner  of  the 
palace  has  sent  forth  her  maidens  into  the  public  ways 
of  the  city  :  theirs  is  a  gracious  errand  ;  they  are  not 
to  chide  with  sour  and  censorious  rebukes,  but  they 
are  to  invite  with  winning  friendliness;  they  are  to  offer 
this  rare  repast,  which  is  now  ready,  to  all  those  who 
are  willing  to  acknowledge  their  need  of  it.  *'  Come, 
eat  ye  of  my  bread,  and  drink  of  the  wine  which  I 
have  mingled."^ 

We  were  led  to  inquire  in  the  last  chapter  how  far 
our  Lord  identified  Himself  with  the  hypostatic 
Wisdom  who  was  speaking  there,  and  we  were  left 
in  some  doubt  whether  He  ever  consciously  admitted 
the  identity  ;  but  it  is  hardly  a  matter  of  doubt  that 
this  passage  was  before  His  mind  when  He  spoke  His 
parable  of  the  Wedding  Feast.^  And  the  connection  is 
still  more  apparent  when  we  look  at  the  Greek  version 
of  the  LXX.,  and  notice  that  the  clause  ''sent  forth  her 
bond-servants  "  is  precisely  the  same  in  Prov.  ix.  3  and 
in  Matt.  xxii.  3.  Here,  at  any  rate,  Jesus,  who  describes 
Himself  as  ''a  certain  king,"  quite  definitely  occupies 
the  place  of  the  ancient  Wisdom  in  the  book  of 
Proverbs,  and  the  language  which  in  this  passage  she 
employs  He,  as  we  shall  see,  in  many  slight  particulars 
made  His  own. 

Yes,  our  Lord,  the  Wisdom  Incarnate,  has  glorious 
ideas  of  hospitality ;  He  keeps  open  house  ;  His  purpose 

'  Prov.  vii.   14.  -  Prov.  ix.   5.  ^  Matt.  xxii.   I,  et  seq. 


ix.  14,  16.]     TJVO   VOICES  IN   THE  HIGH  PLACES.  125 

is  to  call  mankind  to  a  great  feast  ;  the  "  bread  and  the 
wine  "  are  prepared  ;  the  sacrifice  whicli  furnishes  the 
meat  is  slain.  His  messengers  are  not  commissioned 
with  a  mournful  or  a  condemnatory  proclamation,  but 
with  good  tidings  which  they  are  to  pubHsh  in  the  high 
places.  His  word  is  always,  Come.  His  desire  is  that 
men  should  live,  and  therefore  He  calls  them  into  the 
way  of  understanding.^  If  a  man  lacks  wisdom,  if  he 
recognizes  his  ignorance,  his  frailty,  his  folly,  if  he  is 
at  any  rate  wise  enough  to  know  that  he  is  foolish,  well 
enough  to  know  that  he  is  sick,  righteous  enough  to 
know  that  he  is  sinful,  let  him  approach  this  noble 
mansion  with  its  lordly  feast.  Here  is  bread  which  is 
meat  indeed  ;  here  is  wine  which  is  life-giving,  the  fruit 
of  the  Vine  which  God  has  planted. 

But  now  we  are  to  note  that  the  invitation  of  Wisdom 
is  addressed  only  to  the  simple,  not  to  the  scorner.^ 
She  lets  the  scorner  pass  by,  because  a  word  to  him 
would  recoil  only  in  shame  on  herself,  bringing  a  blush  to 
her  queenly  face,  and  would  add  to  the  scorner's  wicked- 
ness by  increasing  his  hatred  of  her.  Her  reproof 
would  not  benefit  him,  but  it  would  bring  a  blot  upon 
herself,  it  would  exhibit  her  as  ineffectual  and  helpless. 
The  bitter  words  of  a  scorner  can  make  wisdom  appear 
foolish,  and  cover  virtue  with  a  confusion  which  should 
belong  only  to  vice.  "Speak  not  in  the  hearing  of  a 
fool ;  for  he  will  despise  the  wisdom  of  thy  words."  ^ 
Indeed,  there  is  no  character  so  hopeless  as  that  of  the 
scorner  ;  there  proceeds  from  him,  as  it  were,  a  fierce 
blast,  which  blows  away  all  the  approaches  which  good- 
ness makes  to  him.     Reproof  cannot  come  near  him  ;  * 

'  Prov.  ix.  6.  ^  Prov.  xxiii.  0. 

^  Prov.  ix.  7.  *  Prov.  xiii,  T. 


126  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

he  cannot  find  wisdom,  though  he  seek  it ;  ^  and  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  he  never  seeks  it.^  If  one  attempts  to 
punish  him  it  can  only  be  with  the  hope  that  others 
may  benefit  by  the  example ;  it  will  have  no  effect 
upon  him.^  To  be  rid  of  him  must  be  the  desire  of 
every  wise  man,  for  he  is  an  abomination  to  all,^  and 
with  his  departure  contention  disappears.'^  They  that 
scoff"  at  things  holy,  and  scorn  the  Divine  Power,  must 
be  left  to  themselves  until  the  beginnings  of  wisdom 
appear  in  them — the  first  sense  of  fear  that  there  is  a 
God  who  may  not  be  mocked,  the  first  recognition  that 
there  is  a  sanctity  which  they  would  do  well  at  all 
events  to  reverence.  There  must  be  a  Httle  wisdom  in 
the  heart  before  a  man  can  enter  the  Palace  of  Wisdom  ; 
there  must  be  a  humbling,  a  self-mistrust,  a  diffident 
misgiving  before  the  scorner  will  give  heed  to  her 
invitation. 

There  is  an  echo  of  this  solemn  truth  in  more  than 
one  saying  of  the  Lord's.  He  too  cautioned  His 
disciples  against  casting  their  pearls  before  swine,  lest 
they  should  trample  the  pearls  under  their  feet,  and 
turn  to  rend  those  who  were  foolish  enough  to  offer 
them  such  treasure.^  Men  must  often  be  taught  in  the 
stern  school  of  Experience,  before  they  can  matriculate 
in  the  reasonable  college  of  Wisdom.  It  is  not  good  to 
give  that  which  is  holy  to  dogs,  nor  to  display  the 
sanctities  of  religion  to  those  who  will  only  put  them  to 
an  open  shame.  Where  we  follow  our  own  way  instead 
of  the  Lord's,  and  insist  on  offering  the  treasures  of  the 
kingdom  to  the  scorners,  we  are  not  acting  according 
to  the  dictates  of  Wisdom,  we  get  a  blot  for  that  good- 

*  Pro\%  xiv.  6.  ^  Prov.  xix.  25.  ^  Prov.  xxii.  10. 

^  Prov.  XV.  12.  ^  Prov.  xxiv.  9.  ^  Matt.  vii.  6. 


IX.  14,  i6.]     Tiro    VOICES   IN   THE  HIGH  PLACES.  127 

ness  which  we  so  rashly  offer,  and  often  are  needlessly- 
rent  by  those  whom  we  meant  to  save.  It  is  evident  that 
this  is  only  one  side  of  a  truth,  and  our  Lord  presented 
with  equal  fulness  the  other  side;  it  was  from  Him  we 
learnt  how  the  scorner  himself,  who  cannot  be  won  by 
reproof,  can  sometimes  be  won  by  love  ;  but  our  Lord 
thought  it  worth  while  to  state  this  side  of  the  truth, 
and  so  far  to  make  this  utterance  of  the  ancient  Wisdom 
His  own. 

Again,  how  constantly  He  insisted  on  the  mysterious 
fact  that  to  him  that  hath  shall  be  given,  and  from  him 
that  hath  not  shall  be  taken  what  he  hath,  precisely  in 
the  spirit  of  this  saying :  ''  Give  instruction  to  a  wise 
man,  and  he  will  be  yet  wiser  :  teach  a  righteous  man, 
and  he  will  increase  in  learning."  ^  The  entrance  into 
the  kingdom,  as  into  the  house  of  Wisdom,  is  by 
humility.  Except  a  man  turn,  and  become  as  a  little 
child,  he  cannot  enter.  Wisdom  is  only  justified  of  her 
children :  until  the  heart  is  humble  it  cannot  even  begin 
to  be  wise  ;  although  it  may  seem  to  possess  a  great 
deal,  all  must  be  taken  away,  and  a  new  beginning 
must  be  made — that  beginning  which  is  found  in  the  fear 
of  the  Lord,  and  in  the  knowledge  of  the  Holy  One.^ 

The  closing  words  in  the  invitation  of  Wisdom  are 
entirely  appropriate  in  the  lips  of  Jesus,  and,  indeed, 
only  in  His  lips  could  they  be  accepted  in  their  fullest 
signification.  There  is  a  limited  sense  in  which  all 
wisdom  is  favourable  to  long  life,  as  we  saw  in  chap,  iii., 
but  it  is  an  obvious  remark,  too,  that  the  wise  perish 
even  as  the  fool ;  one  event  happens  to  them  both,  and 

'  Prov.  ix.  9.     Cf.  xviii.  15,  "  The  heart  of  the  prudent  getteth  know- 
ledge ;  and  the  ear  of  the  wise  seeketh  knowledge." 
■•*  Prov.  ix.  10. 


128  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

there  appears  to  be  no  difference.  But  the  Incarnate 
Wisdom,  Jesus  Christ,  was  able  to  say  with  a  broad 
literalness,  "  By  Me  thy  days  shall  be  multiplied,  and 
the  years  of  thy  life  shall  be  increased."  With  Him 
the  outlook  widened  ;  He  could  speak  of  a  new  life,  of 
raising  men  up  at  the  last  day ;  He  could  for  the  first 
time  give  a  solution  to  that  constant  enigma  which  has 
puzzled  men  from  the  beginning,  How  is  it  that  Wisdom 
promises  life,  and  yet  often  requires  that  her  children 
should  die  ?  how  is  it  that  the  best  and  wisest  have 
often  chosen  death,  and  so  to  all  appearance  have 
robbed  the  world  of  their  goodness  and  their  wisdom  ? 
He  could  give  the  answer  in  the  glorious  truth  of  the 
Resurrection  ;  and  so,  in  calhng  men  to  die  for  Him, 
as  He  often  does,  He  can  in  the  very  moment  of  their 
death  say  to  them  with  a  fulness  of  meaning,  ''  By  Me 
thy  days  shall  be  multiplied,  and  the  years  of  thy  life 
shall  be  increased." 

And  then  how  entirely  is  it  in  harmony  with  all  His 
teaching  to  emphasize  to  the  utmost  the  individual 
choice  and  the  individual  responsibility.  "  If  thou  art 
wise,  thou  art  wise  for  thyself:  and  if  thou  scornest, 
thou  alone  shalt  bear  it."  There  can  be  no  progress, 
indeed  no  beginning,  in  the  spiritual  life,  until  this 
attitude  of  personal  isolation  is  understood.  It  is  the 
last  result  of  true  religion  that  we  live  in  others ;  but 
it  is  the  first  that  we  live  in  ourselves  ;  and  until  we 
have  learnt  to  live  in  ourselves  we  can  be  of  no  use  by 
living  in  others.  Until  the  individual  soul  is  dealt  with, 
until  it  has  understood  the  demands  which  are  made 
upon  it,  and  met  them,  it  is  in  no  position  to  take  its 
rightful  place  as  a  lively  stone  in  the  temple  of  God,  or 
as  a  living  member  in  the  body  of  Christ.     Yes,  realize 


ix.  14,  i6.]     Tiro   VOICES  IN   THE  HIGH  PLACES.  129 

this  searching  assurance  of  Wisdom,  let  us  say,  rather, 
of  Christ  :  if  you  are  Hke  the  wise  virgins  in  the  parable, 
it  is  for  your  own  everlasting  good,  you  shall  enter 
into  the  hall  with  the  Bridegroom  ;  but  if  you  are  like 
the  foolish  virgins,  no  wisdom  of  the  wise  can  avail 
you,  no  vicarious  light  will  serve  for  your  lamps  ;  for 
you  there  must  be  the  personal  humiliation  and  sorrow 
of  the  Lord's  "  I  know  you  not." 

If  with  scornful  indifference  to  your  high  trust  as  a 
servant  of  the  Master  you  hide  your  talent,  and  justify 
your  conduct  to  yourself  by  pleading  that  the  Master  is 
a  hard  man,  that  scorn  must  recoil  upon  your  own 
head  ;  so  far  from  the  enlarged  wealth  of  the  others 
coming  to  meet  your  deficiencies,  the  misused  trifle 
which  you  still  retain  will  be  taken  from  you  and  given 
to  them.  Men  have  sometimes  favoured  the  notion  that 
it  is  possible  to  spend  a  life  of  scornful  indifference  to 
God  and  all  His  holy  commandments,  a  life  of  arrogant 
self-seeking  and  bitter  contempt  for  all  His  other 
creatures,  and  yet  to  find  oneself  at  the  end  entirely 
purged  of  one's  contempt,  and  on  precisely  equal  terms 
with  all  pious  and  humble  hearts;  but  against  this 
notion  Wisdom  loudly  exclaims  ;  it  is  the  notion  of  Folly, 
and  so  far  from  redeeming  the  folly,  it  is  Folly's  worst 
condemnation ;  for  surely  Conscience  and  Reason,  the 
heart  and  the  head,  might  tell  us  that  it  is  false;  and 
all  that  is  sanest  and  wisest  in  us  concurs  in  the  direct 
and  simple  assurance,  "  If  thou  scornest,  thou  alone 
shalt  bear  it." 

Such  is  the  invitation,  and  such  the  warning,  of 
Wisdom;  such  is  the  invitation,  and  such  the  warning,  of 
Christ.  Leave  off,  ye  simple  ones,  and  live.  After  all, 
most  of  us  are  not  scorners,  but  only  very  foolish,  easily 


9 


130  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

dazzled  with  false  lights,  easily  misled  with  smooth 
utterances  which  happen  to  chime  in  with  our  own 
ignorant  prejudices,  easily  seduced  into  by-paths  which 
in  quiet  moments  we  readily  acknowledge  to  be  sinful 
and  hurtful.  The  scorners  are  but  a  few  ;  the  simple 
ones  are  many.  Here  is  this  gracious  voice  appealing 
to  the  simple  ones,  and  with  a  winsome  liberahty 
inviting  them  to  the  feast  of  Wisdom. 

At  the  close  of  ver.  1 2  the  LXX.  give  a  very  interesting 
addition,  which  was  probably  translated  from  a  Hebrew 
original.  It  seems  to  have  been  before  our  Lord's 
mind  when  He  drew  the  description  of  the  unclean  spirit 
walking  through  waterless  places,  seeking  rest  and 
finding  none.^  The  passage  is  a  figurative  delineation 
of  the  evils  which  result  from  making  shams  and 
insincerities  the  support  of  life,  in  place  of  the  unfailing 
sureness  and  available  strength  of  wisdom ;  it  may  be 
rendered  thus  :  ''  He  who  makes  falsehood  his  support 
shepherds  the  winds,  and  will  find  himself  pursuing 
birds  on  the  wing ;  for  it  means  leaving  the  paths  of 
his  own  vineyard,  and  wandering  over  the  borders  of 
his  own  husbandry  ;  it  means  walking  through  a  water- 
less wilderness,  over  land  which  is  the  portion  of  the 
thirsty ;  he  gathers  in  his  hands  fruitlessness."  What 
a  contrast  to  the  spacious  halls  and  the  bountiful  fare 
of  Wisdom !  A  life  based  upon  everlasting  verities 
may  seem  for  the  time  cold  and  desolate,  but  it  is 
founded  upon  a  rock,  and  not  a  barren  rock  either,  for 
it  sends  forth  in  due  course  corn,  and  wine,  and  oil. 
The  children  in  that  house  have  bread  enough  and  to 
spare.     But  when  a  man  prefers  make-believe  to  reality, 

1  Matt.  xii.  43. 


ix.  14,  i6.]     TJrO   VOICES  IN  THE  HIGH  PLACES.  131 

and  follows  the  apparently  pleasant,  instead  of  the 
actually  good,  what  a  clutching  of  winds  it  is  !  what 
a  chase  after  swift-vanishing  birds  of  joy  !  The  whole- 
some ways,  fruitful,  responsive  to  toil,  are  left  far  behind  ; 
and  here  soon  is  the  actual  desert,  without  a  drop  of 
\vater  to  cool  the  lips,  or  a  single  fruit  of  the  earth 
which  a  man  can  eat.  The  deluded  soul  consumed  his 
substance  with  harlots,  and  he  gathers  the  wind.  The 
ways  of  vice  are  terrible  ;  they  produce  a  thirst  which 
they  cannot  quench ;  and  they  fill  the  imagination  with 
torturing  images  of  well-being  which  are  farther  removed 
from  reality  by  every  step  we  take.  Wisdom  bids  us 
to  make  truth  our  stay,  for  after  all  the  Truth  is  the 
Way  and  the  Life,  and  there  is.  no  other  way,  no  other 
life. 

And  now  comes  the  brief  closing  picture  of  Folly,  to 
which  again  the  LXX.  give  a  short  addition.  Folly  is 
loud,  empty-headed  as  her  victims,  whom  she  invites 
to  herself,  not  as  Wisdom  invites  them,  to  leave  off  their 
simplicity,  but  rather  as  like  to  like,  that  their  igno- 
rance may  be  confirmed  into  vice,  and  their  simplicity 
into  brutishness.  She  has  had  the  effrontery  to  build 
her  house  in  the  most  prominent  and  lofty  place  of 
the  city,  where  by  good  rights  only  Wisdom  should 
dwell.  Her  allurements  are  specially  directed  to  those 
who  seem  to  be  going  right  on  in  their  wholesome  ways, 
as  if  she  found  her  chief  delight,  not  in  gratifying  the 
vicious,  but  in  making  vicious  the  innocent.  Her  charms 
are  poor  and  tawdry  enough;  seen  in  the  broad  sunlight, 
and  with  the  wholesome  air  all  round  her,  she  would 
be  revolting  to  every  uncorrupted  nature ;  her  clamorous 
voice  would  sound  strident,  and  her  shameless  brow 
would  create  a  blush  of  shame  in  others ;    she  natu- 


[32  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


rally  therefore  seeks  to  throw  a  veil  over  herself  and 
a  glamour  over  her  proposals ;  she  suggests  that 
secrecy  and  illicitness  will  lend  a  charm  to  what  in 
itself  is  a  sorry  delight.  It  is  clandestine,  therefore  it 
is  to  be  sweet ;  it  is  forbidden,  therefore  it  is  to  be 
pleasant.  Could  anything  be  more  sophistical  ?  That 
which  owes  its  attraction  to  the  shadows  of  the  night 
must  obviously  be  intrinsically  unattractive.  It  is  an 
argument  fit  only  for  the  shades  of  the  lost,  and  not 
for  those  who  breathe  the  sweet  air  and  behold  the 
sun.  Her  house  is  indeed  haunted  with  ghosts,  and 
when  a  man  enters  her  portal  he  already  has  his 
foot  in  hell.  Well  may  the  LXX.  add  the  vehement 
warning,  "  Spring  away  from  her  clutches ;  do  not 
linger  in  the  place ;  let  her  not  have  thy  name,  for  thou 
wilt  traverse  another's  waters ;  from  another's  waters 
hold  aloof,  from  another's  fountains  do  not  drink,  in 
order  that  thou  mayest  live  long,  and  add  to  thy  years 
of  Hfe." 

And  now,  before  leaving  this  subject,  we  must  briefly 
remark  the  great  change  and  advance  which  Christ  has 
brought  into  our  thought  of  the  relation  between  the 
two  sexes.  This  Book  of  Wisdom  is  a  fair  illustration 
of  the  contempt  in  which  woman  was  held  by  the  wise 
men  of  Israel.  One  would  suppose  that  she  is  the 
temptress,  and  man  is  the  victim.  The  teacher  never 
dreams  of  going  a  step  backward,  and  asking  whose 
fault  it  was  that  the  temptress  fell  into  her  vicious 
ways.  He  takes  no  note  of  the  fact  that  women  are 
first  led  astray  before  they  lead  others.  Nor  does  he 
care  to  inquire  how  the  men  of  his  day  ruined  their 
women  by  refusing  to  them  all  mental  training,  all 
wholesome  interest  and  occupation,  shutting  them  up 


ix.  14,  16.]     TJVO   VOICES  IN   THE  HIGH  PLACES.  133 

in  the  corrupting  atmosphere  of  the  seraglio,  and  teach- 
ing them  to  regard  the  domestic  sphere,  and  that  only 
in  its  narrowest  sense,  as  the  proper  Hmit  of  their 
thought  and  affection.  It  was  reserved  for  the  Great 
Teacher,  the  Incarnate  Wisdom  Himself,  to  redress  this 
age-long  injustice  to  woman,  by  sternly  holding  up  to 
men  the  mirror  of  truth  in  which  they  might  see  their 
own  guilty  hearts.^  It  was  reserved  for  him  to  touch 
the  conscience  of  a  city  woman  who  was  a  sinner,  and 
to  bring  her  from  her  clamorous  and  seductive  ways 
to  the  sweetness  of  penitential  tears,  and  the  rapturous 
love  which  forgiveness  kindles.  It  is  He,  and  not  the 
ancient  Wisdom,  which  has  turned  the  current  of  men's 
thoughts  into  juster  and  kindlier  ways  on  this  great 
question.  And  thus  it  is  that  the  great  Christian  poet 
represents  the  archangel  correcting  the  faulty  judgment 
of  man.^  Adam,  speaking  with  the  usual  virtuous 
indignation  of  the  stronger  sex  in  contemplation  of 
the  soft  vision  of  frail  women  presented  to  his  eyes, 
says  : — 

"  O  pit}'  and  shame,  that  they,  who  to  live  well 
Entered  so  fair,  should  turn  aside  to  tread 
Paths  indirect,  or  in  the  midway  faint ! 
But  still  I  see  the  tenour  of  man's  woe 
Holds  on  the  same,  from  woman  to  begin." 

The  correction  is  the  correction  of  Christ,  though 
Michael  is  the  speaker  : — 

"  From  man's  effeminate  slackness  it  begins," 
Said  the  angel,  "who  should  better  hold  his  place, 
By  wisdom  and  superior  gifts  received." 

Our  Lord  draws  no  such  pictures  as  these  in  the 

*  See  John  viii.  i  ei  seq. 

'  Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  xi.  650  etc. 


134  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

book  of  Proverbs ;  they  have  their  value ;  it  is  neces- 
sary to  warn  young  men  against  the  seductions  which 
the  vices  of  other  men  have  created  in  woman's  form ; 
but  He  prefers  always  to  go  to  the  root  of  the  matter ; 
He  speaks  to  men  themselves ;  He  bids  them  restrain 
the  wandering  eye,  and  keep  pure  the  fountains  of 
the  heart.  To  that  censorious  Wisdom  which  judges 
without  any  perception  that  woman  is  more  sinned 
against  than  sinning  He  would  oppose  His  severe 
command  to  be  rid  of  the  beam  in  one's  own  eye, 
before  making  an  attempt  to  remove  the  mote  from 
another's.  It  is  in  this  way  that  He  in  so  many 
varied  fields  of  thought  and  action  has  turned  a  half 
truth  into  a  whole  truth  by  going  a  little  deeper,  and 
unveihng  the  secrets  of  the  heart ;  and  in  this  way 
He  has  enabled  us  to  use  the  half  truth,  setting  it  in 
its  right  relation  to  the  whole.^ 

^  The  fuller  teaching  of  the  book  on  the  subject  of  Woman  will  be 
found  in  Lect.  XXXI. 


X. 


WEALTH. 


"Treasures  of  wickedness  profit  nothing: 
But  righteousness  dcUvereth  from  death." — Prov.  x.  2. 

"O'erweening  statesmen  have  full  long  relied 
On  fleets  and  armies  and  external  wealth ; 
But  from  within  proceeds  a  Nation's  health." 

Wordsworth. 

NO  moral  system  is  complete  which  does  not  treat 
with  clearness  and  force  the  subject  of  wealth. 
The  material  possessions  of  an  individual  or  of  a  nation 
are  in  a  certain  sense  the  pre-requisites  of  all  moral  life ; 
for  until  the  human  being  has  food  to  eat  he  cannot  be 
virtuous,  he  cannot  even  live  ;  until  he  has  clothing 
he  cannot  be  civilised ;  and  unless  he  has  a  moderate 
assurance  of  necessaries,  and  a  certain  margin  of  leisure 
secured  from  the  toil  of  life,  he  cannot  live  w^ell,  and 
there  can  be  no  moral  development  in  the  full  sense  of 
that  term.  And  so  with  a  nation  :  it  must  have  a  suffi- 
cient command  of  the  means  of  subsistence  to  maintain 
a  considerable  number  of  people  who  are  not  engaged 
in  productive  labour,  before  it  can  make  much  advance 
in  the  noblest  qualities  of  national  fife,  progress  in  the 
arts,  extension  of  knowledge,  and  spiritual  cultivation. 
The  production  of  wealth,  therefore,  if  not  strictly 
speaking  a  moral  question  itself,  presses  closely  upon 
all  other  moral  questions.     Wisdom  must  have  some- 


136  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

thing  to  say  about  it,  because,  without  it,  Wisdom,  in 
a  material  world  like  ours,  could  not  exist. 

Wisdom  will  be  called  upon  to  direct  the  energies 
which  produce  wealth,  and  to  determine  the  feelings  with 
which  we  are  to  regard  the  wealth  which  is  produced. 

Moral  problems  weightier  still  begin  to  emerge  when 
the  question  of  Distribution  presents  itself.  Moral 
considerations  lie  at  the  root  of  this  question  ;  and 
Political  Economy,  so  far  as  it  attempts  to  deal  with  it 
apart  from  moral  considerations,  must  always  be  merely 
a  speculative,  and  not  a  practical  or  a  fruitful  science. 

If  Production  is  in  a  sense  the  presupposition  of  all 
moral  and  spiritual  life,  no  less  certainly  correct  moral 
conceptions — may  we  not  even  say  true  spiritual  con- 
ditions ? — are  the  indispensable  means  of  determining 
Distribution.  For  a  society  in  which  every  individual 
is  striving  with  all  his  strength  or  cunning  to  procure 
for  himself  the  largest  possible  share  of  the  common 
stock,  in  which  therefore  the  material  possessions  gravi- 
tate into  the  hands  of  the  strong  and  the  unscrupulous, 
while  the  weak  and  the  honourable  are  left  destitute — 
such  a  society,  if  it  ever  came  into  existence,  would  be 
a  demoralised  society.  Such  a  demoralisation  is  always 
probable  when  the  means  of  production  have  been 
rapidly  and  greatly  improved,  and  when  the  fever  of 
getting  has  overpowered  the  sense  of  righteousness  and 
all  the  kindlier  human  feelings.  Such  a  demoralisation 
is  to  be  averted  by  securing  attention  to  the  abiding 
moral  principles  which  must  govern  men's  action  in  the 
matter  of  wealth,  and  by  enforcing  these  principles  with 
such  vividness  of  illustration  and  such  cogency  of  sanc- 
tion that  they  shall  be  generally  accepted  and  practised. 

In  our  own  day  this  question  of  the  distribution  of 


.2.]  IVEALTII.  137 

wealth  stands  in  the  front  rank  of  practical  questions. 
Religious  teachers  must  face  it,  or  else  they  must  for- 
feit their  claim  to  be  the  guides  and  instructors  of  their 
generation. 

Socialists  are  grappling  with  this  question  not  alto- 
gether in  a  religious  spirit :  they  have  stepped  into  a  gap 
which  Christians  have  left  empty  ;  they  have  recognised 
a  great  spiritual  issue  when  Christians  have  seen  nothing 
but  a  material  problem  of  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence, 
of  supply  and  demand,  of  labour  and  capital.  Where 
Socialism  adopts  the  programme  of  Revolution,  Wisdom 
cannot  give  in  her  adhesion ;  she  knows  too  well  that 
suffering,  impatience,  and  despair  are  unsafe,  although 
very  pathetic,  counsellors;  she  knows  too  well  that 
social  upheaval  does  not  produce  social  reconstruction, 
but  a  weary  entail  of  fresh  upheavals ;  she  has  learnt, 
too,  that  society  is  organic,  and  cannot,  like  Pelops  in 
the  myth,  win  rejuvenescence  by  being  cut  up  and  cast 
into  the  cauldron,  but  can  advance  only  by  a  quiet  and 
continuous  growth,  in  which  each  stage  comes  naturally 
and  harmoniously  out  of  the  stage  which  preceded. 
But  all  Socialism  is  not  revolutionary.  And  Wisdom 
cannot  withhold  her  sympathy  and  her  aid  where 
Socialism  takes  the  form  of  stating,  and  expounding, 
and  enforcing  truer  conceptions  concerning  the  dis- 
tribution of  wealth.  It  is  by  vigorous  and  earnest 
grappling  with  the  moral  problem  that  the  way  of 
advance  is  prepared  ;  every  sound  lesson  therefore  in 
the  right  way  of  regarding  wealth,  and  in  the  use  of 
wealth,  is  a  step  in  the  direction  of  that  social  renova- 
tion which  all  earnest  men  at  present  desire. 

The  book  of  Proverbs  presents  some  very  clear  and 
decisive  teaching  on  this  question,  and  it  is  our  task 


13S  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

now  to  view  this  teaching,  scattered  and  disconnected 
though  it  be,  as  a  whole. 

I.  The  first  thing  to  be  noted  in  the  book  is  its 
frank  and  full  recognition  that  Wealth  has  its  advantages, 
and  Poverty  has  its  disadvantages.  There  is  no  quixotic 
attempt  to  overlook,  as  many  moral  and  spiritual  sys- 
tems do,  the  perfectly  obvious  facts  of  Hfe.  The  extrava- 
gance and  exaggeration  which  led  St.  Francis  to  choose 
Poverty  as  his  bride  find  no  more  sanction  in  this  Ancient 
Wisdom  than  in  the  sound  teaching  of  our  Lord  and  His 
Apostles.  The  rich  man's  wealth  is  his  strong  city,^  we 
are  told,  and  as  an  high  wall  in  his  own  imagination, 
while  the  destruction  of  the  poor  is  their  poverty.  The 
rich  man  can  ransom  himself  from  death  if  by  chance 
he  has  fallen  into  difficulties,  though  this  benefit  is  to 
some  extent  counterbalanced  by  the  reflection  that  the 
poor  escape  the  threats  of  such  dangers,  as  no  bandit 
would  care  to  attack  a  man  with  an  empty  purse 
and  a  threadbare  cloak.-  The  rich  man  gains  many 
advantages  through  his  power  of  making  gifts  ;  it  brings 
him  before  great  men,^  it  procures  him  universal  friend- 
ship, such  as  it  is,^  it  enables  him  to  pacify  the  anger  of 
an  adversary,'^  for  indeed  a  gift  is  as  a  precious  stone  in 
the  eyes  of  him  that  hath  it,  whithersoever  it  turneth  it 
prospereth.'^     Not  only  does  wealth  make  many  friends,^ 

^  Prov.  X.  15  ;  xviii.  1 1.         ^  Prov.  xviii.  16.  '"  Prov.  xxi.  I4. 

^  Prov.  xiii.  8.  ^  Prov.  xix.  6 ;  xiv.  20. 

^  Prov.  xvii.  8.  More  literally:  "A  precious  stone  is  the  gift  in  the 
eyes  of  him  who  gets  possession  of  it,  whithersoever  he  turneth  he 
deals  wisely."  That  is  to  say,  the  man  who  receives  the  gift,  whether 
a  judge  or  a  witness  or  an  opponent,  is  as  it  were  retained  for  the 
giver,  and  induced  to  use  his  best  faculties  in  behalf  of  his  retainer. 

^  Prov.  xix.  4  :  "  Wealth  addeth  many  friends,  but  the  poor — his 
companion  separates  from  him." 


X.  2.]  WEALTH.  139 

it  also  secures  positions-  of  influence  and  authority,  over 
those  who  are  poorer,  enabling  a  man  to  sit  in  Parlia- 
ment or  to  gain  the  governorship  of  a  colony.^  It  gives 
even  the  somewhat  questionable  advantage  of  being 
able  to  treat  others  with  brusqueness  and  hauteur." 

On  the  other  hand,  the  poor  man  has  to  use  en- 
treaties.'- His  poverty  separates  him  from  his  neigh- 
bours, and  even  incurs  his  neighbours'  hatred.^  Nay, 
worse  than  this,  his  friends  go  far  from  him,  his  very 
brethren  hate  him,  if  he  calls  after  them  they  quickly 
get  out  of  his  reach ;  ^  while  the  necessity  of  borrow- 
ing from  wealthier  men  keeps  him  in  a  position  of 
continual  bondage.^  Indeed,  nothing  can  compensate 
for  being  without  the  necessaries  of  life  :  "  Better  is  he 
that  is  hghtty  esteemed,  and  is  his  own  servant,  than 
he  that  honoureth  himself,  and  lacketh  bread."  ^ 

Since  then  Poverty  is  a  legitimate  subject  of  dread, 
there  are  urgent  exhortations  to  diligence  and  thrift, 
quite  in  accordance  with  the  excellent  apostolic  maxim 
that  if  a  man  will  not  work  he  shall  not  eat ;  while  there 
are  forcible  statements  of  the  things  which  tend  to 
poverty,  and  of  the  courses  which  result  in  comfort  and 
wealth.  Thus  it  is  pointed  out  how  slack  and  listless 
labour  leads  to  poverty,  while  industry  leads  to  wealth.'' 

^  Prov.  xxii.  17.        -  Prov.  xviii.  23.       ^  Prov.  xiv.  20 ;  xix.  4. 

*  Prov.  xix.  7,  The  sense  of  the  Authorised  Version  is  here  re- 
tained, but  it  will  be  seen  in  Lecture  XII.  that  there  is  good  rea- 
son for  treating  the  third  clause  of  the  verse  as  a  mutilated  fragment 
of  another  proverb  :  see  p.  166. 

'"  Prov.  xxii.  7. 

•*  Prov.  xii.  9.  This  reading  is  obtained  by  following  the  LXX., 
whose  translation  6  oovKevijiv  eavrcp  shows  that  they  pointed  r?  ^"^V]. 
C/.  Ecclcs.  X.  27:  "Better  is  he  that  laboureth  and  aboundclh  in  all 
things  than  he  that  boasteth  himself  and  lacketh  bread." 

•  Prov.  X.  4. 


140  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

We  are  reminded  that  the  obstinate  refusal  to  be  cor- 
rected is  a  fruitful  source  of  poverty/  while  the  humble 
and  pious  mir  '  '  rewarded  with  riches  as  well  as 
with  honour  an^  Aq}  In  the  house  of  the  wise  man 
are  found  treasures  as  well  as  all  needful  supplies.^ 
Drunkenness  and  gluttony  lead  to  poverty,  and  drowsi- 
ness clothes  a  m."  with  rags.^  And  there  is  a  beautiful 
injunction  to  eng  ge  in  an  agricultural  life,  which  is  the 
only  perennial  soi  rce  of  wealth,  the  only  secure  founda- 
tion of  a  people's  prosperity.  As  if  we  were  back  in 
patriarchal  times,  we  are  thus  admonished  in  the  later 
proverbs  of  Solomon  ° : — 

"  Be  thou  diligent  to  know  the  state  of  thy  flocks, 
And  look  well  to  thy  herds  ; 
For  riches  are  not  for  ever ; 

And  doth  the  crown  endure  unto  all  generations? 
The  hay  is  carried,  and  the  tender  grass  showeth  itself, 
And  the  herbs  of  the  mountains  are  gathered  in. 
The  lambs  are  for  thy  clothing. 
And  the  goats  are  the  price  of  the  field  : 
And  there  will  be  goats'  milk  enough  for  thy  food,  for  the  food 

of  thy  household  ; 
And  maintenance  for  thy  maidens." 

II.  But  now,  making  all  allowance  for  the  advantages 
of  wealth,  we  have  to  notice  some  of  its  serious  draw- 
backs. To  begin  with,  it  is  always  insecure.  If  a  man 
places  any  dependence  upon  it,  it  will  fail  him ;  only  in 
his  imagination  is  it  a  sure  defence.*^  ''  Wilt  thou  set 
thine  e3^es  upon  it  ?  it  is  gone.  For  riches  certainly 
make  themselves  wings,  like  an  eagle  that  flieth  toward 
heaven."  ^ 


^  Prov.  xiii.  1 8.         *  Pro  v.  xxiii.  2i.  Prov.  xi.  28. 

*  Prov.  xxii.  4.         *  Prov.  xxvii.  23-27.       '  Prov.  xxiii.  5  (marg.). 

'  Prov.  xxi.  20. 


X.  2.]  WEALTH. 


141 


But,  further,  if  the  wealth  has  been  obtained  in  any 
other  way  than  by  honest  labour  it  is  useless,  at  any  rate 
for  the  owner,  and  indeed  worse  '"        "  seless  for  him.^ 

As  the  text  says,  treasures  or.  .xkedness  profit 
nothing.  In  the  revenues  of  the  wii^ked  is  trouble.^ 
Got  in  light  and  fallacious  ways,  tlie  money  dwindles ; 
only  when  gathered  by  labour  does  t  really  increase.^ 
When  it  is  obtained  by  falsehood-^.£>y  the  tricks  and 
misrepresentations  of  trade,  for  ex  .mple — it  may  be 
likened  to  a  vapour  driven  to  and  fro — nay,  rather  to 
a  mephitic  vapour,  a  deadly  exhalation,  the  snares  of 
death.'*  Worst  of  all  is  it  to  obtain  wealth  by  oppres- 
sion of  the  poor  ;  one  who  does  so  shall  as  surely  come 
to  want  as  he  who  gives  money  to  those  who  do  not 
need  it.^  In  fact,  our  book  contains  the  striking  thought 
that  ill-earned  wealth  is  never  gathered  for  the  benefit  of 
the  possessor,  but  only  for  the  benefit  of  the  righteous, 
and  must  be  useless  until  it  gets  into  hands  which  will 
use  it  benevolently.^ 

And  while  there  are  these  serious  drawbacks  to 
material  possessions,  we  are  further  called  upon  to 
notice  that  there  is  wealth  of  another  kind,  wealth 
consisting  in  moral  or  spiritual  qualities,  compared  with 


'  Cf.  the  Turkish  proverb  :  "  Of  riches  lawfully  gained  the  devil 
takes  half,  of  riches  unlawfully  gained  he  takes  the  whole  and  the 
owner  too." 

-  Prov.  XV.  6,  cf.  xiv.  24.  "  A  crown  of  the  wise  is  their  riches,  but 
the  folly  of  fools,  (though  they  be  rich,  remains  nothing  but)  folly." 

'  Prov.  xiii.  II. 

*  Prov.  xxi.  6.  It  is  evident  from  their  translation  iirl  irayiba^  davdrov 
that  the  LXX.  read  ri10'"'t^'piD  as  in  Psalm  xviii.  6,  and  this  gives 
a  very  graphic  and  striking  sense,  while  the  received  text  of  the 
Hebrew,  n)1Z-^'^p2D,  is  hardly  intelligible. 

*  Prov.  xxii.  16.  *  Prov.  xiii.  22;  xxviii.  8. 


142  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

which  wealth,  as  it  is  usually  understood,  is  quite  paltry 
and  unsatisfying.  When  the  intrinsic  defects  of  silver 
and  gold  have  been  frankly  stated,  this  earthy  treasure 
is  set,  as  a  whole,  in  comparison  with  another  kind 
of  treasure,  and  is  observed  to  become  pale  and  dim. 
Thus  ''  riches  profit  not  in  the  day  of  wrath,  but 
righteousness  delivereth  from  death."  ^  Indeed  it  is 
only  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  which  brings  riches 
Vv^ithout  drawbacks.^  In  the  house  of  the  righteous  is 
much  treasure.^  Better  is  a  little  with  righteousness 
than  great  treasure  without  right.^  In  the  light  of 
these  moral  considerations  the  relative  positions  of  the 
rich  and  the  poor  are  reversed ;  it  is  better  to  be  an 
honest  poor  man  than  a  perverse  rich  man  ;  the  little 
grain  of  integrity  in  the  heart  and  life  outweighs  all 
the  balance  at  the  bank.'^ 

A  little  wisdom,  a  little  sound  understanding,  or 
a  Httle  wholesome  knowledge  is  more  precious  than 
wealth.  How  much  better  is  it  to  get  wisdom  than 
gold.  Yea,  to  get  understanding  is  rather  to  be 
chosen  than  silver.^  There  may  be  gold  and  abund- 
ance of  rubies,  but  the  lips  of  knowledge  are  a  precious 
jewel.'' 

Na}',  there  are  some  things  apparently  very  trifling 


*  Prov.  xi.  4.  ^  Prov.  xv.  6. 

'  Prov.  X.  22.  *  Prov.  xvi.  8. 

^  Prov.  xix.  I.  The  parallelism  in  this  verse  is  not  so  complete 
as  in  xxviii.  6.  The  Peshitto  reads,  "  than  he  who  is  perverse 
in  his  lips  and  is  rich,"  but  it  is  better  to  retain  the  text  and  under- 
stand :  There  is  a  poor  man  walking  in  his  integrity,  and  everyone 
thinks  that  he  is  to  be  commiserated  ;  but  he  is  much  better  off  than 
the  fool  with  perverse  lips,  though  no  one  thinks  of  commiserating 
this  last. 

^  Prov.  xvi.  16.  '  Prov.  xx.  15. 


X.  2.1  WEALTH. 


M3 


which  will  so  depreciate  material  wealth  that  if  a  choice 
is  to  be  made  it  is  well  to  let  the  wealth  go  and  to 
purchase  immunity  from  these  trivial  troubles.  Better 
is  a  little  with  the  fear  of  the  Lord  than  great  treasure 
and  trouble  therewith.  Better  is  a  dinner  of  herbs 
where  love  is  than  a  stalled  ox  and  hatred  therewith.^ 
Better  is  a  dry  morsel  and  c|uietness  therewith  than  an 
house  full  of  feasting  with  strife.^  Yes,  the  good  will 
and  affectionate  regard  of  our  fellow-men  are  on  the 
whole  far  more  valuable  than  a  large  revenue.  A  good 
name  is  rather  to  be  chosen  than  great  riches,  and 
loving  favour  rather  than  silver  and  gold.^  Indeed, 
when  the  relations  of  the  rich  and  the  poor  are  brought 
up  into  God's  presence  our  whole  conception  of  the 
matter  is  liable  to  change  ;  we  observe  the  rich  and 
the  poor  meet  together,  and  the  Lord  the  maker  of  them 
all;"^  we  observe  that  any  slur  cast  on  the  poor  or  any 
oppression  of  them  is  practically  a  reproach  against 
the  Maker,^  whilst  any  act  of  pity  or  tenderness  to  the 
needy  is  in  effect  a  service  rendered  to  God  ;  and  more 
and  more  v/e  get  to  feel  that  notwithstanding  the  rich 
man's  good  opinion  of  himself  he  presents  rather  a 
sorry  spectacle  in  the  presence  of  the  wise,  even  though 
the  wise  may  be  exceedingly  poor.'' 

'  Prov.  XV.  16,  17.  -  Prov,  xvii.  I. 

'  Prov.xxii.  i.  This  proverb  is  inscribed  in  the  cupola  which  lights 
the  Manchester  Exchange.  It  is  a  good  skylight,  but  apparently  too 
high  up  for  the  busy  merchants  on  the  floor  of  the  Exchange  to  sec 
without  more  effort  than  is  to  be  expected  of  them. 

*  Prov.  xxii.  2.  '"  Prov.  xiv.  31  ;  xvii.  5. 

**  Prov.  xxviii.  1 1.  Cf.  an  interesting  addition  to  xvii,  6  in  the  LXX. 
—  ToO  TTiffTov  6'Xos  6  k6(J[xo$  rQ}v  xpVf^o.TU}u  ToO  8^  airlcTTOv  ovbk  6^ok6s. 
The  faithful  man  owns  the  whole  world  of  possessions,  the  unfaithful 
owns  not  a  farthinsr. 


144  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

Taking  into  account  therefore  the  intrinsic  insecurity 
of  wealth,  and  the  terrible  flaws  in  the  title  which 
may  result  from  questionable  ways  of  obtaining  it,  and 
estimating  at  a  right  value  the  other  things  which  are  not 
usually  reckoned  as  wealth, — goodness,  piety,  wisdom, 
knowledge,  and  love, — we  can  quite  understand  that 
enlightened  men  might  be  too  busy  in  life  to  make 
money,  too  occupied  with  grave  purposes  and  engrossed 
with  noble  objects  of  pursuit  to  admit  the  perturbations 
of  mammon  into  their  souls.^  Making  all  allowance 
for  the  unquestionable  advantages  of  being  rich,  and 
the  serious  inconveniences  of  being  poor,  we  may  yet 
see  reasons  for  not  greatly  desiring  wealth,  nor  greatly 
dreading  poverty. 

III.  But  now  we  come  to  the  positive  counsels  which 
our  Teacher  would  give  on  the  strength  of  these  con- 
siderations about  money  and  its  acquisition.  And  first 
of  all  we  are  solemnly  cautioned  against  the  fever  of 
money-getting,  the  passion  to  get  rich,  a  passion  which 
has  the  most  demoralising  effect  on  its  victims,  and 
is  indeed  an  indication  of  a  more  or  less  perverted 
character.  The  good  man  cannot  be  possessed  by  it, 
and  if  he  could  he  would  soon  become  bad.^ 

These  grave  warnings  of  Wisdom  are  specially 
needed  at  the  present  time  in  England  and  America, 
when  the  undisguised  and  the  unrestrained  pursuit  of 
riches  has  become  more  and  more  recognised  as  the 
legitimate  end  of  life,  so  that  few  people  feel  any  shame 

'  It  is  said  of  Agassiz  that  he  excused  himself  from  engaging  in  a  pro- 
fitable lecturing  tour  on  the  ground  that  he  had  not  time  to  make  money. 

*  Cf.  the  saying  of  Sirach :  "Winnow  not  with  every  wind  and  go 
not  into  every  way,  for  so  doth  the  sinner  that  hath  a  double  tongue  " 
(Eccles.  V.  .9). 


WEALTH.  145 


in  admitting  that  this  is  their  aim ;  aiid  the  clear  unim- 
passioned  statements  of  the  result,  which  always  follows 
on  the  unhallowed  passion,  receive  daily  confirmation 
from  the  occasional  revelations  of  our  domestic,  our 
commercial,  and  our  criminal  life.  He  that  is  greedy 
of  gain,  we  are  told,  troubleth  his  own  house. ^  An 
inheritance  may  be  gotten  hastily  at  the  beginning, 
but  the  end  thereof  shall  not  be  blessed.^  A  faithful 
man  shall  abound  with  blessings,  but  he  that  maketh 
haste  to  be  rich  (and  consequently  cannot  by  any 
possibility  be  faithful)  shall  not  be  unpunished.^  He 
that  hath  an  evil  eye  hasteth  after  riches,  and  knoweth 
not  that  want  shall  come  upon  him.^  "  Weary  not 
thyself,"  therefore,  it  is  said,  ''  to  be  rich ; "  which, 
though  it  may  be  the  dictate  of  thine  own  wisdom,^  is 
really  unmixed  folly,  burdened  with  a  load  of  calamity 
for  the  unfortunate  seeker,  for  his  house,  and  for  all 
those  who  are  in  any  way  dependent  upon  him. 

Again,  while  we  are  cautioned  not  to  aim  constantly 
at  the  increase  of  our  possessions,  we  are  counselled 
to  exercise  a  generous  liberality  in  the  disposal  of  such 
things  as  are  ours.  Curiously  enough,  niggardliness  in 
giving  is  associated  with  slothfulness  in  labour,  while 
it  is  implied  that  the  wish  to  help  others  is  a  constant 
motive  for  due  diligence  in  the  business  of  life.  "  There 
is  that  coveteth  greedily  all  the  day  long,  but  the  righ- 
teous giveth  and  withholdeth  not."  '^  The  law  of  nature, 
— the  law  of  life, — is  to  give  out  and  not  merely  to 
receive,  and  in  fulfilling  that  law  we  receive  unexpected 
blessings  :  ''  There  is  that  scattereth  and  increaseth  yet 

'  Prov.  XV.  27.  '  Prov.  xxviii.  22. 

*  Prov.  XX.  21.  *  Prov.  xxiii.  4. 

*  Prov.  xxviii.  20.  "  Prov.  xxi.  26. 

10 


146  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

more,  and  there  is  that  withholdeth  more  than  is  meet, 
and  it  tendeth  only  to  want.  The  Hberal  soul  shall  be 
made  fat ;  and  he  that  watereth  shall  be  watered  also 
himself."  ^  ''  He  that  giveth  to  the  poor  shall  not  lack  ; 
but  he  that  hideth  his  eyes  shall  have  many  a  curse."  ^ 
^'  He  that  hath  pity  on  the  poor  lendeth  unto  the  Lord, 
and  his  good  deed  will  He  pay  him  again."  "  '^  He  that 
hath  a  bountiful  eye  shall  be  blessed  ;  for  he  giveth  of 
his  bread  to  the  poor."  ^ 

Such  a  wholesome  shunning  of  the  thirst  for  wealth, 
and  such  a  generous  spirit  in  aiding  others,  naturally 
suggest  to  the  wise  man  a  daily  prayer,  a  request  that 
he  may  avoid  the  dangerous  extremes,  and  walk  in  the 
happy  mean  of  worldly  possessions  :  ''Give  me  neither 
poverty  nor  riches ;  feed  me  with  the  food  that  is  need- 
ful for  me ;  lest  I  be  full  and  deny  thee,  and  say.  Who 
is  the  Lord  ?  or  lest  I  be  poor  and  steal,  and  use  pro- 
fanely the  name  of  my  God."  '"  It  is  a  request  not 
easy  to  make  with  perfect  sincerity ;  there  are  not  many 
who,  like.  Emerson's  grandfather,  venture  to  pray  that 
neither  they  nor  their  descendants  may  ever  be  rich ; 
while  there  have  been  not  a  few  who  in  a  "  show  of 
wisdom  in  will-worship  and  humility  and  severity  to 
the  body"  have  sought  for  an  unnecessary  and  an 
unwholesome  poverty.  But  it  is  a  wise  request ;  it 
finds  an  echo  in  the  prayer  which  our  Lord  taught 
His  disciples,  and  constantly  appears  inwoven  in  the 
apostolic  teaching.  And  if  the  individual  is  to  desire 
such  things  for  himself,  he  must  naturally  desire  that 
such  may  be  the   lot  of  his  fellow-creatures,  and  he 

'  Prov.  xi.  24,  25.  *  Prov.  xxii.  9. 

^  Prov.  xxviii.  27.  *  Prov  xxx.  8,  9. 

'  Prov.  xix.  17. 


X.2.]  IVEALTII.  147 

must  make  it  the  aim  of  his  efforts  after  social  reform 
to  indefinitely  increase  the  number  of  those  who  occupy 
this  happy  middle  position,  and  have  neither  riches  nor 
poverty. 

And  now  we  have  followed  the  lines  of  teaching 
contained  in  this  book  on  the  subject  of  wealth,  and 
it  is  impossible  to  miss  the  wisdom,  the  moderation,  the 
inspiration  of  such  counsels.  We  cannot  fail  to  see 
that  if  these  principles  were  recognised  universally,  and 
very  generally  practised ;  if  they  were  ingrained  in  the 
constitution  of  our  children,  so  as  to  become  the  in- 
stinctive motives  and  guides  of  action ;  the  serious 
social  troubles  which  arise  from  the  unsatisfactory 
distribution  of  wealth  would  rapidly  disappear.  Happy 
would  that  society  be  in  which  all  men  were  aiming, 
not  at  riches,  but  merely  at  a  modest  competency, 
dreading  the  one  extreme  as  much  as  the  other ;  in 
which  the  production  of  w^ealth  were  constantly 
moderated  and  controlled  by  the  conviction  that  wealth 
gotten  by  vanity  is  as  the  snares  of  death ;  in  which  all 
who  had  become  the  owners  of  wealth  were  ready  to 
give  and  glad  to  distribute,  counting  a  wise  benevolence, 
which  in  giving  to  the  needy  really  lends  to  the  Lord, 
the  best  investment  in  the  world. 

If  these  neglected  principles  are  hitherto  very  faintly 
recognised,  we  must  recollect  that  they  have  never  been 
seriously  preached.  Although  they  were  theoretically 
taught,  and  practically  lived  out,  in  the  words  and 
the  life  of  Jesus  Christ,  they  have  never  been  fully 
incorporated  into  Christianity.  The  mediaeval  Church 
fell  into  the  perilous  doctrines  of  the  Ebionites,  and 
glorified  poverty  in  theory  while  in  practice  it  became 
an  engine  of  unparalleled  rapacity.     Protestantism  has 


148  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

generally  been  too  much  occupied  with  the  great  prin- 
ciple of  Justification  by  Faith  to  pay  much  attention  to 
such  a  writing  as  the  Epistle  of  St.  James,  which  Luther 
described  as  "  a  letter  of  straw  " ;  and  thus,  while  we 
all  believe  that  we  ai;e  saved  by  faith  in  Christ  Jesus, 
it  seldom  occurs  to  us  that  such  a  faith  must  include 
the  most  exact  and  literal  obedience  to  His  teachings. 
Christian  men  unblushingly  serve  Mammon,  and  yet 
hope  that  they  are  serving  God  too,  because  they  be- 
lieve on  Him  whom  God  sent — though  He  whom  God 
sent  expressly  declared  that  the  two  services  could  not 
be  combined.  Christian  men  make  it  the  effort  of  a 
lifetime  to  become  rich,  although  Christ  declared  that 
it  was  easier  for  a  camel  to  enter  the  eye  of  a  needle 
than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ; 
and  when  they  hear  that  Christ  required  an  intending 
follower  to  sell  all  that  he  had  and  give  to  the  poor, 
they  explain  it  away,  and  maintain  that  He  does  not 
require  such  a  sacrifice  from  them,  but  simply  asks 
them  to  believe  in  the  Atonement. 

In  this  way  Christians  have  made  their  religion 
incredible,  and  even  ridiculous,  to  many  of  the  most 
earnest  spirits  of  our  time.  When  Christ  is  made  unto 
them  Wisdom  as  well  as  Redemption,  they  will  see 
that  the  principles  of  Wisdom  which  concern  wealth 
are  obligatory  upon  them,  just  because  they  profess  to 
believe  in  Christ. 


XL 

GOODNESS. 

"The  righteousness  of  the  upright  shall  deliver  them." — Prov.  xi.  6. 
"  An  unjust  man  is  the  abomination  of  the  righteous,  and  he  who  goes 
right  in  his  way  is  the  abomination  of  the  wicked." — Prov.  xxix.  27. 

THE  book  of  Proverbs  abounds  with  sayings  which 
have  the  sound  of  truisms,  sayings  which  repeat, 
with  innumerable  variations  and  shades  of  colouring, 
that  wickedness  is  an  evil,  hateful  to  God  and  to  men, 
and  that  righteousness  is  a  blessing  not  only  to  the 
righteous  themselves,  but  to  all  with  whom  they  are 
connected.  We  are  disposed  to  say.  Surely  no  reason- 
able person  can  question  such  an  obvious  truth  ;  but 
on  reflection  we  remember  that  the  truth  was  not  per- 
ceived by  the  great  religions  of  antiquity,  is  not  recog- 
nised now  by  the  vast  majority  of  the  human  race,  and 
even  where  it  is  theoretically  admitted  without  question 
is  too  frequently  forgotten  in  the  hurry  and  the  pres- 
sure of  practical  life.  There  is  good  reason  therefore 
why  the  truism,  as  we  are  inclined  to  call  it,  should 
be  thrown  into  the  form  of  maxims  which  will  find  a 
hold  in  the  memory,  and  readily  occur  to  the  mind  on 
occasions  of  trial.  And  as  we  pass  in  review  what 
Proverbial  Religion  has  to  say  upon  the  subject,  we 
shall  perhaps  be  surprised  to  find  how  imperfectly  we 


150  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

have  apprehended  the  supreme  importance  of  goodness, 
and  how  insidiously  teachings,  which  were  originally 
meant  to  enforce  it,  have  usurped  its  place  and  treated 
it  with  contumely.  It  will  begin  to  dawn  upon  us  that 
the  truth  is  a  truism,  not  because  it  is  carried  out  in 
practice,  but  only  because  no  one  has  the  hardihood  to 
question  it ;  and  perhaps  we  shall  receive  some  impulse 
towards  transforming  the  conviction  which  we  cannot 
dispute  into  a  mode  of  conduct  which  we  cannot  decline. 

To  begin  with,  our  book  is  most  unflinching  in  its 
assertions  that,  notwithstanding  all  appearances  to  the 
contrary,  wickedness  is  a  mistakcy  a  source  of  perpetual 
weakness  and  insecurity,  always  in  the  long  run  pro- 
ducing ruin  and  death ;  while  righteousness  is  in  itself 
a  perpetual  blessing,  and  is  weighted  with  beautiful  and 
unexpected  fruits.  The  very  reiteration  becomes  most 
impressive. 

The  hope  of  the  righteous  shall  be  gladness  ;  but  the 
expectation  of  the  wicked  shall  perish.^  The  righteous 
shall  never  be  removed,  but  the  wicked  shall  not  dwell 
in  the  land,^  The  house  of  the  wicked  shall  be  over- 
thrown, but  the  tent  of  the  upright  shall  flourish.^  The 
wicked  earneth  deceitful  wages,  but  he  that  soweth 
righteousness  hath  a  sure  reward.^  A  man  shall  not 
be  established  by  wickedness,  while  the  root  of  the 
righteous  shall  never  be  moved.^  The  wicked  really 
falls  by  his  own  wickedness,  and  is  swept  away  by 
his    own   violence.^      He    sows    iniquity    and    reaps 

^  Prov.  X.  28.  2  Prov.  x.  30. 

^  Prov.  xiv.  II.  Cf.  Prov.  xii.  7:  "Overthrow  the  wicked;  and 
they  are  not  {i.e.,  there  is  no  rising  again  for  them),  but  the  house 
of  the  righteous  shall  stand." 

*  Prov.  xi.  18.  ^  Prov.  xiii.  3.  ^  Prov.  xi.  5,  6;  xxi.  7. 


xi.  6,  xxix,  27.]  GOODNESS. 


calamity.^  His  crooked  way,  his  malignant  thoughts, 
the  hatred  against  his  neighbour,  the  guile  in  his  heart, 
and  the  flood  of  evil  things  which  comes  out  of  his  lips, 
have  one  issue — destruction.-^  When  he  comes  to  die, 
his  expectation  perishes,  all  the  hope  of  iniquity  ends  in 
disappointment.^  His  lamp  goes  out  not  to  be  relit.'* 
Meanwhile,  the  light  of  the  righteous  man  rejoices, 
because  he  attains  unto  life  as  surely  as  the  wicked 
works  towards  death.^ 

It  is  true  that  the  appearance  of  things  is  different. 
Hand  joins  in  hand  to  promote  evil.^  .  Men  follow  out 
what  seems  right  in  their  own  hearts,  evil  as  they  are."^ 
Success  seems  to  attend  them,  and  one  is  tempted  to 
envy  the  sinners,  and  to  fret  at  their  ways.^  But  the 
envy  is  misplaced ;  the  evil  man  does  not  go  un- 
punished; the  wicked  are  overthrown  and  are  not.^ 
The  way  which  seemed  right  in  a  man's  eyes  proves  to 
be  the  way  of  death. ^'^  A  righteous  man  falleth  seven 
times  and  riseth  up  again ;  but  the  wicked  are  over- 
thrown by  calamity, ^^  and  the  righteous  are  obliged  to 
look  upon  their  fall.-^^ 

On  the  other  hand,  goodness  is  its  own  continual 
reward.  While  treacherous  men  are  destroyed  by 
their  perverseness,  the  upright  are  guided  by  their  own 
integrity.-^^  While  the  sinner  is  overthrown  by  his 
wickedness,  righteousness  guardeth  him  that  is  upright 

'  Prov.  xxii.  8.  '  Prow  xiv.  12  ;  xvi.  5,  25    xxi.  2^ 
-  Prov.xxi.  7,8,  10,  15;  xxvi.24,        ^  Prov.  xxiii.  17,  iS;  xxiv.  I,  19. 

26;  XV.  28.  '•'  Prov.  xii.  7. 

'  Prov.  xi.  7.  '"  Prov.  xiv.  12;  xvi.  25. 

*  Prov.  xiii.  9;  xxiv.  20.                    "  Prov.  xxiv.  15,  16. 

*  Prov.  xi.  19.  '-  Prov.  xxix.  16. 
•*  Prov.  xi.  21.  '^  Prov.  xi.  3. 


152  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

in  the  way.^  If  the  righteous  gets  into  trouble  he  is 
delivered,  while  the  wicked  falls  into  his  place  :  ^  there 
is  a  kind  of  substitution  ;  a  ransom  is  paid  to  enable 
the  righteous  to  escape,  and  the  ransom  is  the  person 
of  the  wicked.^  Not  only  does  the  righteous  come  out 
of  trouble, "^  but,  strictly  speaking,  no  mischief  really 
happens  to  him  ;  it  is  only  the  wicked  that  is  filled  with 
evil.^  The  righteous  eats  to  the  satisfying  of  his  own 
soul,  but  the  belly  of  the  wicked  shall  want.^  The 
good  man  walks  on  a  highway  and  so  preserves  his 
soul."^  Mercy  and  truth  shine  upon  him  because  he 
devises  good.^  He  only  followed  after  righteousness 
and  mercy,  but  he  found  life,  righteousness,  and 
honour.^  His  heart  is  flooded  with  joy,  he  actually 
sings  as  he  journeys  on.^°  He  seems  Hke  a  tree  in  the 
green  leaf,  a  tree  of  life,  the  fruits  of  which  cannot  fail  to 
be  attractive ;  so  that  he  unconsciously  wins  favour.^^ 
The  fruit  does  not  fail,  because  the  root  is  alive.^^ 
And  if  in  actual  Hfe  this  blessedness  of  the  good  man 
does  not  appear,  if  by  reason  of  the  evil  in  the  world 
the  righteous  seem  to  be  punished,  and  the  noble  to  be 


^  Prov.  xiii.  6.  Cf.  Prov.  xiv.  14  :  "  The  backslider  in  heart  shall  be 
sated  from  his  own  ways,  and  the  good  man  from  himself."  Though 
probably  we  ought  to  read,  with  Nowack,  1  v^l^^P,  which  would  give 
a  completer  parallelism  :  "  The  backslider  shall  be  sated  from  his  own 
ways,  and  the  good  man  from  his  own  doings." 

^  Prov.  xi.  8.     Cf.  Prov.  xxviii.  18.       ®  Prov.  xiii.  25. 

'  Prov.  xxi.  18.  ^  Prov.  xvi.  17;  xix.  16. 

*  Prov.  xii.  13.  ^  Prov.  xiv.  22. 

^  Prov.  xii.  21.  '  Prov.  xxi.  21. 

'"  Prov.  xxi.  15;  xxix.  6.  Unless,  with  Delitzsch,  we  are  to  read 
r'^D3  for  r^D?,  and  V-1T  for  j-IT,  which  would  give  :  "  In  the  steps 
of  a  bad  man  lie  snares,  but  the  righteous  runs  and  rejoices." 

"  Prov.  xi.  27,  30.  ''^  Prov.  xii.  12. 


xi.6,  xxix.  27.]  GOODNESS.  153 


smitten,^  that  only  creates  a  conviction  that  the  fruit 
will  grow  in  another  life  ;  for  when  we  have  closely 
observed  the  inseparable  connection  between  goodness 
and  blessedness,  we  cannot  avoid  the  conviction  that 
^'  the  righteous  hath  hope  in  his  death."  ^  Yes,  practical 
goodness  is  the  source  of  perpetual  blessing,  and  it  can- 
not be  altogether  hidden.  Even  a  child  maketh  himself 
known  by  his  doings,  whether  his  work  be  pure  and 
right. ^  To  the  good  we  must  assign  the  supremacy; 
the  evil  must  bow  before  them  and  wait  at  their  gates.* 
And  it  is  easy  to  understand  why  it  appears  so  incon- 
gruous— so  abnormal,  like  a  troubled  fountain  and  a 
corrupted  spring,  when  the  righteous  give  way  to  the 
wicked.^ 

Nor  is  the  blessing  of  goodness  at  all  limited  to  the 
good  man  himself.  It  falls  on  his  children  too.  A 
just  man  that  walketh  in  his  integrity,  blessed  are  his 
children  after  him.^  It  reaches  even  to  the  third  gene- 
ration. A  good  man  leaveth  an  inheritance  to  his 
children's  children."^  The  righteous  is  a  guide  to  his 
neighbour  also.^  He  is  a  joy  to  his  sovereign  ;  he 
that  loveth  pureness  of  heart,  for  the  grace  of  his  lips 
the  king  shall  be  his  friend.^  His  character  and  his 
well-being   are  a    matter  of  public,    even   of  national 

'  Prov.  xvii,  26  :  "  To  punish  the  righteous  is  not  good,  nor  to  smite 
the  noble  for  their  uprightness." 

^  Prov.  xiv.  32.  *  Prov.  xiv.  19. 

'  Prov.  XX.  II.  •  Prov.  xxv.  26. 

^  Prov.  xiv.  26  :  "  In  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  strong  confidence  : 
and  his  children  shall  have  a  place  of  refuge."  So  Prov.  xx.  7  :  "  A 
just  man  that  walketh  in  his  integrity:  blessed  are  his  children  after 
him." 

^  Prov.  xiii.  22.  "  Prov.  xii.  26. 

"  Prov.  xxii.  ii.    Cf.  Prov.  xvi.  13. 


154  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

concern,  for  there  is  something  winning  in  him  ;  he 
acts  as  a  saving  influence  upon  those  who  are  around 
him.^  Therefore,  when  the  righteous  increase  the 
people  rejoice,^  when  they  triumph  there  is  great  glory.^ 
When  it  goeth  well  with  the  righteous  the  city  rejoiceth, 
just  as  when  the  wicked  perish  there  is  shouting.  By 
the  blessing  of  the  upright  the  city  is  exalted,  just  as 
it  is  overthrown  by  the  mouth  of  the  wicked.*  Yes, 
righteousness  exalteth  a  nation,  while  sin  is  a  reproach 
to  the  whole  people.^ 

It  is  the  grand  public  interest  to  see  the  wicked  perish 
in  order  that  the  righteous  may  increase :  ^  for  the  wa}- 
of  the  wicked  causes  other  people  to  err.*^  His  lips 
are  like  a  scorching  fire  ;  ^  his  presence  brings  a  general 
atmosphere  of  contempt, ignominy,  and  shame.^  When 
the  wucked  rise  men  hide  themselves,^*^  when  they  bear 
rule  the  people  sigh.^^  Well  may  the  national  feeling 
be  severe  on  all  those  who  encourage  the  wicked  in 
any  way.  He  that  saith  unto  the  wicked,  Thou  art 
righteous,  peoples  shall  curse  him,  nations  shall  abhor 
him  ;  but  to  them  that  rebuke  him  shall  be  delight,  and 
a  good  blessing  shall  come  upon  them.^^  It  is  a  sure 
sign  that  one  is  forsaking  the  law  when  one  ceases  to 
contend  with  the  wicked  and  begins  to  praise  them.^^ 

Blessing  to  himself,  blessing  to  his  children,  his 
neighbours,  his  country,  is  the  beautiful  reward  of  the 
good  man ;  ruin  to  himself,  a  spreading  contagion  of 
evil  to  others,   and   general  execration,  is    the   lot  of 

*  Prov.  xi.  31.  '^  Prov.  xxviii.  28.         ^°  Pro  v.  xxviii.  28. 
-  Prov.  xxix.  2.  '  Prov.  xii.  26.  "  Prov.  xxix.  2. 

^  Prov.  xxviii.  12.  ^  Prov.  xvi.  27.  '^  Prov.  xxiv.  24,  25. 

*  Prov.  xi.  10,  II.  ^  Prov,  xviii.  3.  ^^  Prov.  xxviii.  4. 
^  Prov.  xiv.  34. 


xi.  6,  xxix.  27.]  GOODNESS.  155 

the  wicked.  Well  may  the  former  be  bold  as  a  lion, 
and  well  may  the  latter  flee  when  no  man  pursues,  for 
conscience  makes  cowards  of  us  all.^ 

But  at  present  we  have  not  touched  on  the  chief 
blessedness  of  the  good,  and  the  chief  curse  of  the  evil, 
on  that  which  is  really  the  spring  and  fountain-head  of 
all.  It  is  the  great  fact  that  God  is  with  the  rigJitcous 
and  against  the  wicked^  that  He  judges  men  according  to 
their  integrity  or  perverseness,  and  accepts  them  or 
rejects  them  simply  upon  that  principle.  By  looking 
at  this  lofty  truth  we  get  all  our  conceptions  on  the 
subject  cleared.  The  perverse  in  heart  are  an  abomin- 
ation to  the  Lord  ;  such  as  are  perfect  in  their  way  are 
His  delight.^  A  good  man  shall  obtain  favour  of  the 
Lord,  but  a  man  of  wicked  devices  will  He  condemn.^ 
Evil  devices  are  an  abomination  to  the  Lord,'^  and  so  is 
the  wicked,  but  He  loveth  the  righteous.^  To  justify 
the  wicked  or  to  condemn  the  righteous  is  equally 
abominable  to  Him.^  He  considers  the  house  of 
the  wicked,  how  the  wicked  are  overthrown  to  their 
ruin.^  He  overthrows  the  words  of  the  treacherous  man, 
while  His  eyes  preserve  him  that  hath  knowledge.^  He 
weighs  the  heart  and  keeps  the  soul  and  renders  to 
every  man  according  to  his  work.^  Thus  His  way  is 
a  stronghold  to  the  upright,  but  a  destruction  to  the 
workers  of  iniquity.-^*^  He  does  not  regard  prayer  so 
much  as  righteousness ;  he  that  turneth  away  his  ear 
from  hearing  the  law,  even  his  prayer  is  an  abomina- 

'  Prov.  xxviii.  I.         ^  Pro  v.  xii.  2.  *  Prov.  xv.  9. 

-  Prov.  xi.  20.  ■•  Prov.  xv.  26.  ^  Prov.  xvii.  15,  26;  xviii.  5. 

'  Prov.  xxi.  12,  where  "one  that  is  righteous"  seems  to  mean  God 
Himself;  see  the  margin  of  R.V. 
*  Prov.  xxii.  12.         '  Prov.  xxiv.  12.      '"  Prov.  x.  29. 


IS6  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

tion.^  Sacrifice  goes  for  nothing  in  His  sight  if  the  life  is 
not  holy.  To  do  justice  and  judgment  is  more  acceptable 
to  the  Lord  than  sacrifice.^  The  sacrifice  of  the  wicked 
is  an  abomination  :  how  much  more  when  he  bringeth 
it  with  a  wicked  mind  ?  ^  Yes,  it  is  an  abomination 
to  the  Lord,  just  as  the  prayer  of  the  upright  is  His 
dehght.  The  Lord  is  far  from  the  wicked,  but  He 
heareth  the  prayer  of  the  righteous.^  When  the  foolish 
sinner  offers  a  sin-offering  instead  of  relinquishing  his 
sin,  the  very  offering  mocks  him,  for  it  is  only  the 
righteous  who  find  favour  with  the  Lord,^ 

It  is  this  solemn  truth,  the  truth  of  God's  own  way 
of  regarding  goodness  and  wickedness,  which  makes 
earnestness  on  the  subject  essential.  If  goodness  were 
only  pleasing  to  man,  if  sin  were  only  an  offence  against 
creatures  like  ourselves,  ordinary  prudence  would 
require  us  to  be  good  and  to  avoid  evil,  but  higher 
sanction  would  be  wanting.  When,  however,  the 
matter  is  taken  up  into  the  Divine  presence,  and  we 
begin  to  understand  that  the  Supreme  Ruler  of  all 
things  loves  righteousness  and  hates  iniquity,  visits  the 
one  with  favour  and  the  other  with  reprobation,  quite 
a  new  sanction  is  introduced.  The  wicked  man,  who 
makes  light  of  evil,  to  whom  it  is  as  a  sport,  appears  to 
be  nothing  short  of  an  absolute  fool.^  In  God's  presence 
it  is  not  difficult  to  perceive  that  goodness  is  wisdom, 
the  only  wisdom,  the  perfect  wisdom. 

'  Prov.  xxv'iii.  9.  ^  Prov.  xxi.  27. 

^  Prov.  xxi.  3.  •*  Prov.  xv.  8,  29. 

^  Prov.  xiv.  9.  This  seems  to  be  the  meaning  of  this  difficult  verse, 
which  should  be  translated  :  The  sin-offering  mocks  fools,  but  among 
the  righteous  is  favour. 

*  Prov.  X.  23. 


xi.  6,  xxix.  27.]  GOODNESS.  157 

But  now  it  may  occur  to  some  of  us  that  it  is  surely 
nothing  very  wonderful  to  lay  this  stress  upon  the 
close  connection  between  goodness  and  God-pleasing. 
Is  it  not,  we  are  inclined  to  sa}',  the  most  obvious  and 
unquestioned  of  facts  that  God  requires  goodness  at 
our  hands,  and  is  angry  with  the  wicked  every  day  ? 
It  is  not  very  wonderful  to  us,  because  Revelation 
has  made  it  familiar,  but  none  the  less  it  is  a  truth 
of  Revelation,  and  if  we  were  to  ask  in  what  the 
Inspiration  of  this  book  consists,  no  simpler  and  truer 
answer  could  be  given  than  that  it  teaches,  as  we  have 
just  seen,  the  alHance  of  God  with  righteousness  and 
the  abhorrence  in  which  He  holds  wickedness. 

Yes,  a  truism,  but  it  was  a  discovery  which  the  world 
was  very  slow  to  make,  and  it  is  still  a  principle  on 
which  the  world  is  very  unwilling  to  act. 

The  main  characteristic  of  all  heathen  religions  is 
that  their  gods  do  not  demand  righteousness,  but  certain 
outward  and  formal  observances ;  sacrifices  must  be 
offered  to  them,  their  vindictive  temper  must  be  pro- 
pitiated, their  anger  averted ;  if  the  dues  of  the  gods 
are  paid,  the  stipulated  quantity  of  corn  and  wine  and 
oil,  the  tithes,  the  firstfruits,  the  animals  for  the  altar, 
the  tribute  for  the  temple,  then  the  worshipper  who 
has  thus  discharged  his  obligations  may  feel  himself 
free  to  follow  out  his  own  tastes  and  inclinations.  In 
the  Roman  religion,  for  example,  every  dealing  with 
the  gods  was  a  strictly  legal  contract ;  the  Roman 
general  agreed  with  Jupiter  or  with  Mars  that  if  the 
battle  should  be  won  a  temple  should  be  built.  It  was 
not  necessary  that  the  cause  should  be  right,  or  that 
the  general  should  be  good  ;  the  sacrifice  of  the  wicked, 
though  offered  with  an  evil  intent,  was  as  valid  as  the 


I5S  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

sacrifice  of  the  good.  In  either  case  the  same  amount 
of  marble  and  stone,  of  silver  and  gold,  would  come  to 
the  god. 

In  the  Eastern  rehgions  not  only  were  goodness  and 
righteousness  dissociated  from  the  idea  of  the  gods,  but 
evil  of  the  grossest  kinds  was  definitely  associated  with 
them.  The  Phoenician  deities,  like  those  of  the  Hindoos, 
were  actually  worshipped  with  rites  of  murder  and  lust. 
Every  vice  had  its  patron  god  or  goddess,  and  it  was 
forgotten  by  priest  and  people  that  goodness  could  be 
the  way  of  pleasing  God,  or  moral  evil  a  cause  of  offence 
to  Him. 

Even  in  Israel,  where  the  teaching  of  Revelation  was 
current  in  the  proverbs  of  the  people,  the  practice 
generally  followed  the  heathen  conceptions.  All  the 
burning  protests  of  the  inspired  prophets  could  not 
avail  to  convince  the  Israelite  that  what  God  required 
was  not  sacrifice  and  offering,  but  to  do  justice,  to 
love  mercy,  and  to  walk  humbly  with  Him.  Again  and 
again  we  find  that  the  high  places  were  frequented  and 
the  ritual  supported  by  men  who  were  sensual,  unjust, 
and  cruel.  The  Sabbath  Day  was  kept,  the  feasts 
were  duly  observed,  the  priests  were  handsomely 
maintained,  and  there,  it  was  supposed,  the  legitimate 
claims  of  Jehovah  ceased.  What  more  could  He 
desire  ? 

This  is  surely  the  most  impressive  proof  that  the 
Truth  which  is  under  consideration  is  far  from  being 
obvious.  Israel  himself,  the  chosen  channel  for  com- 
municating this  truth  to  the  world,  was  so  slow  to 
understand  and  to  grasp  it,  that  his  religious  observ- 
ances were  constantly  degenerating  into  lifeless  cere- 
monies devoid  of  all  moral  significance,  and  his  religious 


xi.6,xxix.  27.]  GOODNESS.  159 

teachers  were'mainly  occupied  in  denouncing  his  conduct 
as  wholly  inconsistent  with  the  truth. 

So  far  from  treating  the  truth  as  a  truism,  our  Lord 
in  all  His  teaching  laboured  to  bring  it  out  in  greater 
clearness,  and  to  set  it  in  the  forefront  of  His  message 
to  men.  He  made  it  the  very  keynote  of  the  Gospel 
that  not  every  one  who  says.  Lord,  Lord,  shall  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but  he  that  doeth  the  will 
of  His  Father  in  heaven.  He  painted  with  exquisite 
simplicity  and  clearness  the  right  life,  the  conduct 
which  God  requires  of  us,  and  then  likened  every  one 
who  practised  this  hfe  to  a  man  who  builds  his  house 
on  a  rock,  and  every  one  who  does  not  practise  it  to 
a  man  who  builds  his  house  on  the  sand.  He  declared, 
in  the  spirit  of  all  that  we  have  just  read  from  the 
book  of  Proverbs,  that  teachers  were  to  be  judged  by 
their  fruits,  and  that  God  would  estimate  our  lives  not 
by  what  we  professed  to  do,  but  by  what  we  did;  and 
He  took  up  the  very  language  of  the  book  in  declar- 
ing that  every  man  should  be  judged  according  to  his 
works.^  In  every  word  He  spoke  He  made  it  plain 
that  goodness  is  what  God  loves,  and  that  wickedness 
is  what  He  judges  and  destroys.  In  the  same  way 
every  one  of  the  Apostles  insists  on  this  truth  with  a 
new  earnestness.  St.  John  more  especially  reiterates 
it,  in  words  which  sound  even  more  like  a  truism  than 
the  sayings  of  this  book  :  "  He  that  doeth  righteousness 
is  righteous  even  as  He  is  righteous  ;  "  and,  "  If  ye  know 
that  Pie  is  righteous,  ye  know  that  every  one  also  that 
doeth  righteousness  is  begotten  of  Him."  - 

The  Gospel  itself  is  accompanied  by  a  new  and  more 

'  Matt.  xvi.  27.  2  I  John  iii.  7,  10;  ii.  29. 


i6o  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

earnest  assertion  of  this  cardinal  truth,  that  God  loves 
goodness,  and  that  He  judges  men  according  to  their 
works.  And  even  now,  after  many  centuries  of  Christian 
faith,  and  notwithstanding  all  the  teachings  of  the  Bible 
and  the  witness  of  the  Spirit,  it  is  very  difficult  for  many 
of  us  to  understand  that  religion  is  goodness,  and 
religion  without  goodness  is  impiety  of  the  worst  kind. 
It  is  supposed  by  some,  in  face  of  all  the  accumulated 
truth  and  wisdom  of  the  ages  which  have  passed  since 
this  book  was  written,  that  God's  last  and  highest 
message  is  a  dispensation  from  practical  righteousness 
— that  the  Gospel  of  Grace  means  God's  willingness  to 
accept  men  because  they  believe,  apart  from  the  actual 
goodness  to  which  all  faith  is  calculated  to  lead ;  as  if 
the  Gospel  were  an  announcement  that  God  had  entirely 
changed  His  nature,  and  that  all  the  best  and  noblest 
teachings  of  His  Spirit  in  the  past  were  set  aside  by 
His  final  revelation.  Behind  some  figment  or  other, 
some  perverted  notion  of  imputed  righteousness,  men 
try  to  hide  their  guilty  countenance,  and  to  persuade 
themselves  that  now,  in  virtue  of  the  Cross,  they  can 
see  God  without  holiness,  without  purity  of  heart. 
Heaven  has  been  treated  as  a  place  where  men  can 
enter  who  work  abomination  and  make  a  lie ;  and  in 
order  to  secure  a  full  acceptance  for  our  dogma  we  try 
to  depreciate  goodness  as  if  it  were  a  thing  of  little 
worth,  and  even  come  to  look  with  some  suspicion  on 
those  who  are  only  good — only  moral,  I  think  we  call 
it — and  do  not  hold  our  own  views  of  speculative  truth. 
Meanwhile  religious  teachers  ''  tell  the  wicked  they  are 
righteous,"  and  earn  the  curse  of  the  nation,  because 
they  thereby  enable  men  to  be  hard  and  cruel  and 
unjust  and  selfish  and  proud  and  contemptuous,  and 


7.]  GOODNESS.  i6i 


yet  to  esteem  themselves  as  justified  by  faith.  Others 
"justify  the  wicked,"  accepting  a  verbal  profession  in 
place  of  a  virtuous  practice ;  and  that,  as  we  have  seen, 
is  abominable  to  the  Lord. 

Justification  by  faith  loses  all  its  meaning  and  all  its 
value  unless  it  is  fully  admitted  that  to  be  just  is  the 
great  end  and  aim  of  religion.  Salvation  becomes  a 
delusion  unless  it  is  perceived  that  it  means  righteous- 
ness. Heaven,  and  the  saints*  everlasting  rest,  become 
worthless  and  misleading  ideas  unless  we  recognise 
that  it  is  the  abode  of  goodness,  and  that  saints  are 
not,  as  we  sometimes  seem  to  imply,  bad  people 
regarded  as  holy  by  a  legal  fiction,  but  people  who  are 
made  good  and  are  actually  holy. 

Strong  as  the  language  of  our  book  is  upon  the 
subject,  it  is  not  possible  to  bring  out  in  mere  proverbial 
sayings  the  eternal  necessity  of  this  great  truth. 
Goodness  and  blessedness  are  actually  identical,  the 
reverse  and  the  obverse  sides  of  the  same  coin.  If  a 
man  is  made  good  he  is  made  blessed  ;  but  if  he  is 
made  blessed  to  all  appearance,  and  not  good,  the 
blessedness  proves  to  be  an  illusion.  It  could  not 
possibly  avail  to  be  justified  by  faith,  unless  we  were 
made  just  by  faith  ;  a  sore  body  is  not  healed  by  cover- 
ing it  up,  a  dead  man  is  not  quickened  by  a  smiling 
mask.  There  have  been  many  people  who  counted 
themselves  the  elect,  and  made  no  question  that  they 
were  saved,  though  they  remained  all  the  time  inwardly 
wicked  ;  they  were  miserable,  sour,  discontented,  cen- 
sorious, a  burden  to  themselves,  an  eyesore  to  others  ; 
they  were  persuaded  that  they  would  be  happy  in 
heaven,  and  they  supposed  that  their  constant  wretched- 
ness was  due  to  their  being  pilgrims  in  a  strange  land  ; 

I  I 


1 62  THE  BOOK  OF  Pi  WERBS. 


but  the  fact  was  they  would  be  i  -'  re  wretched  still  in 
heaven,  for  nowhere  is  evil  such  a  -urse  as  in  a  place 
where  good  prevails  ;  their  misery  arose  from  their  own 
wicked  hearts,  ru.d  in  the  next  world,  their  hearts  still 
being  wicked,  their  misery  must  continue  and  increase. 
May  God  grant  us  a  clear  vision  in  this  matter,  that 
we  may  see  the  due  relation  of  things !  Goodness  is 
the  principal  thing — for  it  faith  itself  and  all  religion 
exists.  God  is  goodness — man  is  evil ;  what  God 
means  by  saving  us  is  to  make  us  good  like  Himself. 
That  we  must  be  saved  by  faith  means  that  we  must 
be  made  good  by  faith,  not  that  we  must  take  faith  in 
place  of  goodness.  That  righteousness  is  imputed  to 
us  by  the  goodness  of  God  means  that  the  goodness  of 
Christ  is  reckoned  as  ours  for  the  purpose  of  making 
us  good,  not  in  order  to  spare  us  the  necessity  of  being 
good.  And  in  this  way,  and  this  only,  we  must 
estimate  one  another.  What  a  man  believes  in  his 
heart  we  can  never  fully  know ;  but  whether  he  is 
good  or  not  is  a  matter  plain  as  the  day.  It  is  easy 
to  bandy  words  of  reproach,  to  call  men  unbelievers, 
sceptics,  atheists ;  but  there  is  only  one  wise  way  of 
speaking  and  thinking.  If  we  see  goodness,  let  us 
thank  God,  for  there,  be  sure,  His  Spirit  is;^  if  we 
see  the  lovely  graces  which  shine  in  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  gleaming,  however  fitfully,  in  our  fellow-men,  let 
us  recognise  Christ  there.  And  where  we  see  wicked- 
ness, let  no  consideration  of  outward  Christian  profession 
or  orthodoxy  of  behef  restrain  us  from  fully  recognising 
that  it  is  evil,  or  from  courageously  contending  against  it. 

*  "  If  ye  know  that  He  is  righteous,"  says  St.  John,  "ye  know  that 
every  one  also  that  doeth  righteousness  is  begotten  of  Him/  (i 
John  ii.  29). 


XII. 

THE   TONGUE. 

"A  man  shall  be  satisfied  with  good  by  the  fruit  of  his  mouth: 
and  the  doings  of  a  man's  hands  shall  be  rendered  unto  him." — 
Prov.  xii.  14. 

"  In  the  transgression  of  the  lips  is  a  snare  to  an  evil  man  :  but  the 
rigateous  shall  come  out  of  trouble." — Prov.  xii.  13. 

"  A  fool's  vexation  is  PRESENTLY  KNOWN  :  but  a  prudent  man  con- 
ccaleth  shame." — Prov.  xii.  16. 

"  He  that  uttereth  truth  showeth  forth  righteousness,  but  a  false 
witnes.:  deceit." — Prov.  xii.  17. 

"  The  LIP  of  truth  shall  be  established  for  ever  :  but  a  lying  tongue 
is  but  for  a  moment." — Prov.  xii.  19. 

'•  Lying  lips  are  an  abomination  unto  the  Lord:  but  they  that  deal 
truly  are  His  delight." — Prov.  xii.  22. 

"  There  is  that  speaketh  rashly  like  the  piercings  of  a  sword  :  but 
the  TONGUE  of  the  wise  is  health." — Prov.  xii.  18. 

"A  prudent  man  concealeth  knowledge:  but  the  heart  of  fools 
proclaimeth  foolishness."' — Prov.  xii.  23. 

"  The  WORDS  of  the  wicked  are  a  lying  in  wait  for  blood  :  but  the 
jiouTH  of  the  upright  shall  deliver  them." — Prov.  xii.  6. 

"Heaviness  in  the  heart  of  a  man  maketh  it  stoop;  but  a  good 
WORD  maketh  it  glad." — Prov.  xii.  25. 

THERE  is  nothing  which  seems  more  insubstantial 
than  speech,  a  mere  vibration  in  the  atmosphere 
which  touches  the  nerves  of  hearing  and  then  dies 
away.  There  is  no  organ  which  seems  smaller  and 
less  considerable  than  the  tongue ;  a  little  member 
which  is  not  even  seen,  and,  physically  speaking,  soft 


1 64  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


and  weak.  But  the  word  which  issues  out  ot  the  lips 
is  the  greatest  power  in  human  hfe.  Th^^  "soft  tongue 
breaketh  the  bone."^  Words  will  change  the  ciiiTJ^ts 
of  life  :  look  for  instance  at  a  great  orator  addressing  his 
audience ;  how  miraculous  must  it  seem  to  a  deaf  man 
watching  the  speaker  that  the  quiet  opening  of  a  mouth 
should  be  able  to  produce  such  powerful  effects  upon 
the  faces,  the  movements,  the  conduct  of  the  listeners  ! 

We  are  coming  to  consider  the  importance  of  this 
diminutive  organ,  the  ill  uses  and  the  good  uses  to  which 
it  may  be  turned,  and  the  consequent  necessity  of  fitly 
directly  and  restraining  it. 

On  the  use  of  the  tongue  depend  the  issues  of  a 
man's  own  life.  It  may  be  regarded  as  a  tree  which 
bears  fruits  of  different  kinds,  and  such  fruits  as  his 
tongue  bears  a  man  must  eat.  If  his  words  have  been 
good,  then  he  shall  be  satisfied  with  good  by  the;  fruit 
of  his  mouth. ^  "  A  man's  belly  shall  be  filled  with  the 
fruit  of  his  mouth,  with  the  increase  of  his  lips  shall  he 
be  satisfied."^  The  fruits  which  grow  on  this  tongue- 
tree  are  death  and  life — the  tongue  produces  them — and 
he  that  loves  the  tree  shall  according  to  his  love  eat  the 
one  fruit  or  the  other ;  if  he  loves  death-bearing  speech 
he  shall  eat  death ;  if  he  loves  life-bearing  speech  he 
shall  eat  life.^  So  deadly  may  be  the  fruit  of  the  tongue 
that  the  mouth  of  the  fool  is  regarded  as  a  present 
destruction.'^  So  wholesome  may  be  the  fruit  of  the 
tongue  that  the  tongue  of  the  wise  may  be  actually 
denominated  health.*^ 

In  the  case  of  the  fool  it  is  always  very  obvious  how 


'  Prov.  XXV.  15.  ^  Prov.  xviii.  20.  *  Prov.  x.  14. 

*  Prov.  xiii.  2.  *  Prov.  xviii.  21.  ^  Prov.  xii.  l\ 


xii.  6-25.1  THE    TONGUE.  165 

powerfully  tlie  tongue  affects  the  condition  of  the 
speaker.  His  lips  are  always  coming  into  strife,  and  his 
mouth  is  always  calling  for  stripes.  It  is  his  destruc- 
tion, and  his  lips  are  the  snare  of  his  soul.^  In  the 
transgression  of  the  lips  always  lies  the  snare  for  the 
evil  man  :  ultimately  all  men  are  in  effect  condemned 
out  of  their  own  mouths.^  The  tongue  proves  to  be  a 
rod  for  the  back  of  the  proud  and  foolish  owner  of  it, 
while  the  good  man's  tongue  is  a  constant  life-pre- 
server.'^ As  an  old  proverb  says,  a  fool's  tongue  is 
always  long  enough  to  cut  his  own  throat.  On  the 
other  hand,  where  the  tongue  is  wisely  used  it  always 
brings  back  joy  to  the  speaker  in  the  end.^  Thus  who- 
ever keeps  his  mouth  and  his  tongue  keeps  his  soul 
from  troubles,''  but  the  man  who  does  not  take  the  pains 
to  hear,  but  gives  his  testimony  falsely,  shall  perish.*'' 
While  the  use  of  the  tongue  thus  recoils  on  the  speaker 
for  good  or  for  evil,  it  has  a  wide  influence  also  on 
others.  "  He  that  hath  a  perverse  tongue  falleth  into 
mischief," "  but  when  speech  is  good,  and  such  as  it 
ought  to  be,  ''the  words  of  a  man's  mouth  are  like  deep 
waters,  a  gushing  brook,  a  well  of  wisdom."* 

Thus  it  is  of  vast  and  obvious  importance  how  we 
use  our  tongue.  If  our  speech  is  gracious  we  shall 
win  the  friendship  of  the  king,*^  and  it  is  a  pleasant 
thing  if  we  "  keep  the  words  of  the  wise  within  us  and 
if  they  be  established  together  upon  our  lips."  ^^  It  is 
better  for  us  to  be  poor  than  perverse  or  untruthful  in 
our  speech. ^^     Our  teacher,  especially  our  Divine  Lord, 

'  Prov.  xviii.  6,  7.          ^  Prov.  xxi.  23.  ^  Prov.  xxii.  II. 

"^  Prov.  xii.  13,  **  Prov.  xxi.  28.  '"  Prov.  xxii.  18. 

^  Prov.  xiv.  3.  ^  Prov.  xvii.  20.  "  Prov.  xix.  I,  22. 

*  Prov.  XV.  23.  •  Prov.  xviii.  4. 


1 66  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

will  rejoice  inwardly  and  deeply  "  when  our  lips  speak 
right  things."^ 

We  are  now  cautioned  against  some  of  the  evil 
purposes  to  which  the  tongue  may  be  turned,  and  as 
all  the  heads  of  evil  are  passed  in  review  we  realize 
why  St.  James  spoke  of  the  tongue  as  ^'  the  world  of 
iniquity "  (iii.  6)  ;  and  how  profound  was  our  Lord's 
teaching  that  out  of  the  mouth  proceed  the  things  which 
defile  a  man  (Matt.  xv.  i8). 

First  of  all,  the  tongue  is  a  fruitful  source  of  Onar^ 
relling  and  discord.  A  fool  cannot  hide  his  vexation, 
but  must  immediately  blurt  it  out  with  the  tongue.- 
When  he  is  angry  he  must  utter  it  all  at  once,^  though 
a  wise  man  would  keep  it  back  and  still  it,  so  conceal- 
ing shame.  No  one  is  more  certain  to  come  to  grief 
than  ''he  who  provokes  with  words."  ^  These  irritating 
taunts  and  threats  are  Hke  coals  to  hot  embers,  and 
wood  to  fire ; ''  in  their  absence  the  contention  would 
quickly  die  out.  It  is  therefore  the  wise  counsel  of 
Agur  to  one  who  has  done  foolishly  in  exalting  himself, 
or  has  even  entertained  for  a  moment  the  arrogant  or 

'  Prov.  xxiii.  1 6.  -  Prov.  xii.  1 6.  ^  Prov.  xxix.  1 1. 

^  Prov.  xix.  7.  All  the  Proverbs  in  this  selection  are  in  the  form 
of  a  distich.  This  affords  a  fair  presumption  that  this  verse  with  its 
three  clauses  is  mutilated  ;  and  the  presumption  is  confirmed  by  the 
fact  that  the  third  clause  adds  nothing  of  value,  even  if  it  be  intelligible 
at  all,  to  the  sense.  There  is  good  reason,  therefore,  for  believing  that 
this  third  clause  is  the  half  of  a  distich  which  has  not  been  preserved 
in  its  integrity;  all  the  more  because  the  LXX.  have  a  complete  proverb 
which  runs  thus  :  6  ttoXXo,  KaKoiroioJu  TeXeacovpyeL  Kadav,  os  5e  epedi^ei 
\6yovs  ov  audrjcreTai.  "He  that  does  much  evil  is  a  craftsman  of  iniquit}^, 
and  he  that  uses  provoking  words  shall  not  escape."  Perhaps  in 
the  Hebrew  text  which  was  before  the  Greek  translators  Fl'^SO 
appeared  instead  of  Pl^t^P)   ai^d   H^n  N?   instead  of  n^H'N?. 

^  Fro\'.  xxvi.  21. 


6-25]  THE   TONGUE.  167 


quarrelsome  thought,  "Hand  on  thy  mouth!"  for  speech 
under  such  circumstances  produces  strife  as  surely  as 
churning  produces  butter  from  milk,  or  a  blow  on  the 
nose  blood. ^  Rash,  inconsiderate,  angry  words  are  like 
the  piercings  of  a  sword.-  If  only  our  wrathful  spirit 
made  us  immediately  dumb,  anger  would  never  go  far, 
it  would  die  out  as  a  conflagration  dies  when  there  is 
no  wind  to  fan  the  flames. 

But  again,  the  tongue  is  the  instrument  of  Lying; 
one  of  its  worst  disservices  to  man  is  that  when  it  is 
well  balanced,  so  that  it  easily  wags,  it  often  betrays 
him  into  untruths  which  his  heart  never  contemplated 
nop  even  approved.  It  is  the  tongue  which  by  false 
witness  so  often  condemns  the  innocent.^  A  worthless 
witness  mocketh  at  judgment ;  and  the  mouth  of  the 
wicked  swalloweth  iniquity.^  And  though  such  a  wit- 
ness shall  not  in  the  long  run  go  unpunished,  nor 
shall  the  liar  escape,^  yet,  as  experience  shows,  he  may 
have  brought  ruin  or  calamity  on  others  before  ven- 
geance falls  upon  him.  The  false  witness  shall  perish," 
but  often  not  before  he  has  like  a  mace  or  a  hammer 
bruised  and  like  a  sword  or  a  sharp  arrow  pierced  his 
unfortunate  neighbour.''  It  is  the  tongue  which  glozes 
over  the  purposes  of  hate,  and  lulls  the  victim  into  a 
false  security ;  the  fervent  lips  and  the  wicked  heart  are 
like  a  silver  lining  spread  over  an  earthen  vessel  to 
make  it  look  like  silver  ;  the  hatred  is  cunningly  con- 
cealed, the  seven  abominations  in  the  heart  are  hidden  ; 
the  pit  which  is  being  dug  and  the  stone  which  is  to 
overwhelm  the  innocent  are  kept  secret  by  the  facile  talk 

Prov.  XXX.  32,  33.         '  Prov.  xix.  28.  "  Prov.  xxi.  28. 

Prov.  xii.  18.  ^  Prov.  xix.  5,  rep.  vcr.  9.      "  Prov.  xxv.  iS. 

Prov.  xii.  17. 


l68  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

and  flatteries  of  the  tongue;  the  more  the  tongue  lies  in 
its  guileful  machinations  the  more  the  heart  hates  the 
victims  of  its  spite.^  A  righteous  man  hates  lying,  but 
the  wicked,  by  his  lies,  brings  disgrace  and  shame.^  The 
lie  often  appears  to  prosper  for  a  moment,''  but  happily 
it  is  an  abomination  to  the  Lord,"'  and  in  His  righteous 
ordering  of  events  he  makes  the  falsehood  which  was 
as  bread,  and  sweet  to  the  lips,  into  gravel  which  breaks 
the  teeth  in  the  mouth. '^  The  curse  which  is  causeless 
is  frustrated,  and  so  also  is  the  empty  lie  ;  it  wanders 
without  rest,  without  limit,  like  a  sparrow  or  a 
swallow\*^ 

Closely  allied  to  lying  is  Flattery;  and  to  this  vile 
use  the  tongue  is  often  put.  Flattery  is  always  a 
mistake.  It  does  not  attain  its  end  in  winning  the 
favour  of  the  flattered ;  for  in  the  long  run  *'  he  that 
rebuketh  a  man  shall  find  more  favour  than  he  that 
flattereth  with  the  tongue." "  If  it  is  believed,  as  often 
unfortunately  it  is,  it  proves  to  be  a  net  spread  in  the 
path,  which  may  trip  up,  and  may  even  capture  and 
destroy,  the  unwary  walker.^ 

Another  evil  use  of  the  tongue  is  for  Whispering  and 
tale-bearing.  "  He  that  goeth  about  as  a  tale-bearer 
revealeth  secrets  " — he  is  not  to  be  trusted,  it  is  better 
to  have  nothing  to  do  with  him.  Disclosing  the  secret 
of  another  is  a  sure  way  of  incurring  reproach  and 
lasting  infamy.  Such  a  habit  is  a  fruitful  source  of 
rage    and    indignation,   it    brings    black   wrath   to    the 


*  Prov.  xxvi.  23-28.  ^  Prov.  xx.  17. 
■^  Prov.  xiii.  5.  «*  Prov.  xxvi.  2. 

^  Prov.  xii.  19.  '  Prov.  xxviii.  23. 

*  Prov.  xii.  23j  *  Prov.  xxix.  5, 


6-25-]  THE   TONGUE.  169 


countenance  of  him  whose  secret  has  been  published, 
just  as  a  north  wind  spreads  the  rain  clouds  over  the 
sky.^  The  temptation  to  tattling  is  great  ;  the  business 
of  a  gossip  brings  an  immediate  reward  ;  for  the 
corrupt  heart  of  man  delights  in  scandal  as  an  epicure 
in  tit-bits  :  "  The  words  of  a  whisperer  are  as  dainty 
morsels  which  go  down  into  the  chamber  of  the  belly."  "^ 
But  what  mischief  they  do  !  They  separate  bosom 
friends,  sowing  suspicion  and  distrust.''  Where  there 
is  already  a  little  misunderstanding,  the  whisperer 
supplies  wood  to  the  fire  and  keeps  it  burning  ;  apart 
from  him  it  would  soon  die  out.^  But  if  he  thinks 
there  is  any  prospect  of  a  reconciliation  he  will  be 
constantly  harping  on  the  matter  ;  one  who  seeks  love 
would  try  to  hide  the  transgression,  but  the  scandal- 
monger is  a  foe  to  love  and  the  unfailing  author  of 
enmity.'' 

But  there  is  Mischief,  more  deliberate  and  more 
malignant  still,  which  the  tongue  is  employed  to  plot, 
to  plan  and  to  execute.  ''  With  his  mouth  the  godless 
man  destroyeth  his  neighbour.'"^  ''The  words  of  the 
wicked  are  a  lying  in  wait  for  blood."'  "The  mouth 
of  the  wicked  poureth  out  evil  things,"  ^  blasphemies, 
obscenities,  curses,  imprecations.  "A  froward  man 
scattereth  abroad  strife." ''  He  deceives,  and  in  bitter 
raillery  declares  that  he  was  only  jesting;  he  is  like 


'  Prov.  xi.  13  and  xx.  19;  xx\^  2,  23.  Cf.  "Whoso  discovcreth 
secrets  loseth  his  credit  and  shall  never  find  friend  to  his  mind  " 
(Eccles.  xxvii.   16). 

-  Prov.  xviii.  8,  rep.  xxvi.  22.  *  Prov.  xi.  9. 

'  Prov.  xvi.  28.  '  Prov.  xii.  6. 

*  Prov.  xxvi.  20.  •  Prov.  xv.  28. 

*  Prov.  xvji.  9.  *  Prov.  xvi.  28, 


[70  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS, 


a  madman  casting  firebrands,  arrows,  and  death.^  We 
know  what  it  is  to  hear  a  man  pouring  out  foul,  abusive, 
and  impious  language,  until  the  very  atmosphere  seems 
enflamed  with  firebrands,  and  arrow^s  fly  hither  and 
thither  through  the  horrified  air.  We  know,  too,  what 
it  is  to  hear  the  smooth  and  well-turned  speech  of  the 
hypocrite  and  the  impostor,  which  seems  to  oppress 
the  heart  with  a  sense  of  decomposition ;  righteousness, 
truth,  and  joy  seem  to  wither  away,  and  in  the  choking 
suffocation  of  deceit  and  fraud  life  itself  seems  as  if 
it  must  expire. 

It  is  a  relief  to  turn  from  those  worst  uses  of  the 
tongue  to  the  more  pardonable  vices  of  Rashness  and 
Inopportuneness  of  speech.  Yet  these  too  are  evil 
enough  in  their  way.  To  pass  a  judgment  before  we  are 
in  possession  of  the  facts,  and  before  we  have  taken  the 
pains  to  carefully  investigate  and  consider  them,  is  a 
sign  of  folly  and  a  source  of  shame.^  So  impressed  is 
our  teacher  with  the  danger  of  ill-considered  speech  that 
he  says,  ''Seest  thou  a  man  that  is  hasty  in  his  words  ? 
there  is  more  hope  of  a  fool  than  of  him."  ^  And  even 
where  the  utterance  of  the  tongue  is  in  itself  good  it 
may  be  rendered  evil  by  its  untimeliness ;  religious 
talk  itself  may  be  so  introduced  as  to  hinder  the  cause 
of  religion  ;  pearls  may  be  cast  before  swine  :  "  Speak 
not  in  the  hearing  of  a  fool,  for  he  will  despise  the 
wisdom  of  thy  words. "^  There  must  be  some  prepara- 
tion of  spirit  before  we  can  wisely  introduce  Divine  and 
heavenly  things,  and  circumstances  must  not  be  chosen 
which  will  tend  to  make  the  Divine  things  seem  mean 


'  Prov.  xxvi.  iS,  19.  ^  Prov.  xxix.  20. 

-  Prov.  xv'iii.  13.  ^  Prov.  xxiii.  9. 


xii.  6-25.1  T'/ZTT    TONGUE.  171 

and  contemptible.  It  may  be  good  to  rebuke  an  evil- 
doer, or  to  admonish  a  friend  ;  but  if  the  opportunity 
is  not  fitting,  we  may  make  the  evildoer  more  evil,— 
we  may  alienate  our  friend  without  improving  him. 

Considering  then  what  mischief  may  be  done  with 
the  tongue,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  we  are 
cautioned  against  excessive  speech,  "  In  the  multitude 
of  words  there  wanteth  not  transgression,  but  he  that 
refraineth  his  lips  doeth  wisely."^  ^'  He  that  guardeth 
his  mouth  keepeth  his  life ;  who  opens  wide  his  lips 
gets  destruction,  and  a  fool  spreadeth  out  folly."-  *'In 
all  labour  is  profit,  the  talk  of  the  lips  tends  only  to 
poverty."  ^  "  Wisdom  rests  in  the  heart  of  the  under- 
standing, but  even  in  the  inward  part  of  fools  all  is 
blabbed."  ^  "  In  the  fool  are  no  lips  of  knowledge  " 
]^ecause  he  is  always  talking.'"'  "  The  tongue  of  the 
wise  uttcreth  knowledge  aright,  but  the  mouth  of  fools 
poureth  out  folly."  ^  "A  fool  hath  no  delight  in  under- 
standing, but  only  that  his  heart  may  reveal  itself."  ^ 
One  who  is  always  pouring  out  talk  is  sure  to  be 
pouring  out  folly.  The  wise  man,  feeling  that  all  his 
words  must  be  tested  and  weighed,  is  not  able  to  talk 
very  much.  When  your  money  is  all  in  copper,  you 
may  afford  to  throw  it  about,  but  when  it  is  all  in  gold 

'  Prov.  X.  19.  '  Prov.  xi\%  23. 

-  Prov.  xiii.  3,  16.  *  Prov.  xiv.  33. 

*  Prov.  xiv.  7.  There  is  a  quaint  and  pertinent  passage  in  Lyly's 
Euphues: — "We  may  see  the  cunning  and  curious  work  of  Nature, 
which  hath  barred  and  hedged  nothing  in  so  strongly  as  the  tongue, 
with  two  rowes  of  teeth,  and  therewith  two  lips,  besides  she  hath  placed 
it  farre  from  the  heart,  that  it  should  not  utter  that  which  the  heart  had 
conceived ;  this  also  should  cause  us  to  be  silent,  seeinge  those  that 
use  much  talkc,  though  they  speake  truly,  are  never  beleeved." 

"  Prov.  XV.  2.  "  Prov.  xviii.  2. 


172  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

you  have  to  be  cautious.  A  Christian  feels  that  for 
every  idle  word  he  utters  he  will  have  to  give  account, 
and  as  none  of  his  words  are  to  be  idle  they  must 
be  comparitively  few  ;  the  word  that  kindles  wrath,  the 
lie,  the  whisper,  the  slander,  can  therefore  find  no  place 
on  his  lips. 

This  brings  us  to  the  Good  and  bemitiful  uses  of  the 
tongue y  those  uses  which  justify  us  in  calling  the 
tongue  of  the  wise  Health.-^  First  of  all  the  tongue  has 
the  gracious  power  of  soothing  and  restraining  anger. 
It  is  the  readiest  instrument  of  peace-making.  Gentle- 
ness of  speech  allays  great  offences,-  and  by  preventing 
quarrels,  disarming  wrath,  and  healing  the  wounds  of 
the  spirit,  it  maintains  its  claim  to  be  a  tree  of  life.^ 
If  in  the  tumult  of  passion,  when  fiery  charges  are 
made  and  grievous  provocations  are  uttered,  the  tongue 
can  be  held  in  firm  restraint,  and  made  to  give  a  soft 
answer,  the  storm  will  subside,  the  angry  assailant 
will  retire  abashed,^  and  the  flaming  arrows  will  be 
quenched  in  the  buckler  of  meekness  which  opposes 
them.  Nor  is  the  tongue  only  defensive  in  such  cases. 
The  pleasant  words,  spoken  out  of  a  kindly  and  gentle 
nature,  have  a  purifying  effect;^  they  cleanse  away  the 
defilements  out  of  which  the  evil  passions  sprang  ;  they 
purge  the  diseased  humours  which  produce  the  irrita- 
tions of  life  ;  they  supply  a  sweet  food  to  the  poor 
hearts  of  men,  who  are  often  contentious  because 
they    are    hungry    for    sympathy    and  love.      Pleasant 

'  Prov.  xii.  1 8.  -  Eccl.  x.  4. 

•''  Prov.  XV.  4.  NS"!P  is  best  rendered  here  and  in  Eccl.  x.  4  by 
"  gentleness."  It  is  just  that  qualit}'  of  humilit}'  and  submission  and 
tranquillity  which  our  Lord  blessed  as  meekness. 

*  Prov.  XV.  I.  *  Prov.  xv.  26. 


xii.6-25.]  THE   TONGUE.  173 

words  are  as  a  honeycomb,  sweet  to  the  soul,  health  to 
the  bones.  ^  They  must  be  true  words,  or  they  will 
not  in  the  end  be  pleasant,  for,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
sweet  bread  of  falsehood  turns  to  gravel  in  the  mouth. 
But  what  a  different  world  this  would  become  if  we  all 
spoke  as  many  pleasant  words  as  we  honestly  could, 
and  were  not  so  painfully  afraid  of  showing  what 
tenderness  and  pity  and  healing  actually  exist  in  our 
hearts  !  For  another  beautiful  use  of  the  tongue  is  to 
comfort  the  mourners,  of  whom  there  are  always  so 
many  in  the  world.  "  Heaviness  in  the  heart  of  a 
man  maketh  it  stoop."  There  are  these  stooping, 
bowed-down  hearts  everywhere  around  us.  We  wish 
that  we  could  remove  the  cause  of  sorrow,  that  we 
could  effectually  change  the  conditions  which  seem 
unfavourable  to  joy ;  but  being  unable  to  do  this,  we 
often  stand  aloof  and  remain  silent,  because  we  shrink 
from  giving  words  without  deeds,  pity  without  relief. 
We  forget  that  when  the  heart  is  heavy  it  is  just  "  a 
good  word  that  maketh  it  glad.""  Yes,  a  word  of 
genuine  sympathy,  a  word  from  the  heart, — and  in 
trouble  no  other  word  can  be  called  good, — will  often 
do  more  to  revive  the  drooping  spirit  than  the  grosser 
gifts  of  material  wealth.  A  coin  kindly  given,  a 
present  dictated  by  a  heart-felt  love,  may  come  as  a 
spiritual  blessing ;  on  the  other  hand,  money  given 
without  love  is  worthless,  and  seldom  earns  so  much 
as  gratitude,  while  a  word  in  season,  how  good  it  is  !  "^ 
It  is  better  than  silver  and  gold ;  the  discouraged  and 
despondent  heart  seems  to  be  touched  with  the  delicate 
finger  of  hope,  and  to  rise  from  the  ashes  and  the  dust 

'  Prov.  xvi.  24.  *  Prov.  xii.  25.  *  Prov.  xv.  23. 


174  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

with  a  new  purpose  and  a  new  life.  It  must,  of  course, 
be  in  season.  "  As  vinegar  upon  nitre  so  is  he  that 
sings  songs  to  a  sad  heart. "^  But  the  seasonable 
word,  spoken  just  at  the  right  moment  and  just  in  the 
right  tone,  brief  and  simple,  but  comprehending  and 
penetrating,  will  often  make  the  sad  heart  sing  a  song 
for  itself. 

Great  stress  is  to  be  laid  on  this  seasonableness  of 
speech,  whether  the  speech  be  for  comfort  or  reproof. 
A  word  fitly  spoken,  or  to  preserve  the  image  implied 
in  the  original,  a  word  that  runs  on  its  wheels  in  the 
just  and  inevitable  groove,  is  compared  to  a  beautiful 
ornament  consisting  of  golden  apples  set  in  an  ap- 
propriate framework  of  silver  filigree.^  In  such  an 
ornament  the  golden  apples  torn  from  their  suitable 
foil  would  lose  half  their  beauty,  and  the  silver 
setting  without  the  apples  would  only  suggest  a  void 
and  a  missing.  It  is  in  the  combination  that  the 
artistic  value  is  to  be  found.  In  the  same  way,  the 
wisest  utterance  spoken  foolishly^  jars  upon  the 
hearers,  and  misses  the  mark,  while  a  very  simple 
saying,  a  platitude  in  itself,  may  by  its  setting  become 
lovely  and  worthy.  The  best  sermon  in  a  social 
gathering  will  seem  out  of  place,  but  how  often  can  the 
Christian  man  by  some  almost  unobserved  remark 
correct  unseasonable  levity,  rebuke  unhallowed  con- 
versation, and  lead  the  minds  of  the  company  to  nobler 
thoughts.  The  timely  word  is  better  than  the  best 
sermon  in  such  a  case. 


*  Prov.  XXV.  20.  -  Prov.  xxv.  ii. 

^  Cf.  Eccles.  XX.  20  :  "A  wise  sentence  shall  be  rejected  when 
it  Cometh  out  of  a  fools  mouth,  for  he  will  not  speak  it  in  due 
season,'' 


xii.6-25.]  THE   TONGUE.  175 


The  use  of  the  tongue  in  Reproof  is  frequently  re- 
ferred to  in  these  proverbs.  "  A  wise  reprover  upon 
an  obedient  ear"  is  compared  to  "an  earring  of  gold, 
an  ornament  of  fine  gold."^  And  rebuke  is,  as  we 
have  seen,  preferred  before  flattery.-  But  how  wise 
we  must  be  before  our  tongue  can  fitly  discharge  this 
function  !  How  humble  must  the  heart  be  before  it 
can  instruct  the  tongue  to  speak  at  once  with  firmness 
and  tenderness,  without  a  touch  of  the  Pharisee  in  its 
tone,  to  the  erring  brother  or  the  offending  stranger  ! 
A  rebuke  which  springs  not  from  love  but  from  vanity, 
not  from  self-forgetfulness  but  from  self-righteousness, 
will  not  be  like  an  earring  of  gold,  but  rather  like  an 
ornament  of  miserable  tinsel  chafing  the  ear,  the  cause 
of  gangrene,  a  disfigurement  as  well  as  an  injury.  But 
if  we  live  in  close  communion  with  Christ,  and  daily 
receive  His  stern  but  tender  rebukes  into  our  own 
souls,  it  is  possible  that  we  may  be  employed  by  Him 
to  deliver  timely  rebukes  to  our  fellow-men. 

There  are  two  other  noble  uses  of  the  tongue  to  which 
reference  is  constantly  made  in  our  book;  Xh^Iiistnidion 
of  the  ignorant,  and  the  Championship  of  the  distressed. 
With  regard  to  the  first,  we  are  told  that  ''  the  lips  of 
the  wise  disperse  knowledge,"  while  of  course  the  heart 
of  the  foolish  not  being  right  cannot  possibly  impart 
rightncss  to  others.^  It  is  only  the  wise  in  heart  that 
can  claim  the  title  of  prudent,  but  where  that  wisdom 
is  ''  the  sweetness  of  the  lips  increaseth  learning."  ' 
"  The  heart  of  the  wise  instructeth  his  mouth  and 
addeth  learning  to  his  lips."  ^     The  lips  of  knowledge 


Prov.  XXV.  12.  ^  Prov.  xv.  7.  *  Prov.  xvi   23. 

Prov.  xxviii.  23.  ■•  Prov,  xvi.  21. 


176  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

are  compared  to  a  precious  vessel  which  is  more  valu- 
able than  gold  or  rubies.  ^  To  teach  well  requires 
earnest  preparation,  ''  the  heart  of  the  righteous  studieth 
to  answer."  ^  But  when  the  right  answer  to  the  pupil 
is  discovered  and  given  it  is  beautifully  compared  to 
a  kiss  on  the  lips.^ 

But  never  is  the  tongue  more  divinely  employed  than 
in  using  its  knowledge  or  its  pleadings  to  deliver  those 
who  are  in  danger  or  distress.  ''  Through  knowledge 
the  righteous  may  often  be  dehvered."'^  The  mouth  of 
the  upright  will  deliver  those  against  whom  the  wicked 
are  plotting.^  It  is  a  great  prerogative  of  wise  lips 
that  they  are  able  to  preserve  not  themselves  only  but 
others.^  The  true  and  faithful  witness  delivers  souls." 
It  is  this  which  gives  to  power  its  one  great  attraction 
for  the  good  man.  The  ruler,  the  judge,  the  person 
of  social  consideration  or  of  large  means  is  in  the 
enviable  position  of  being  able  to  ''  open  his  mouth  for 
the  dumb,  in  the  cause  of  all  such  as  are  left  desolate, 
to  judge  rightly  and  minister  judgment  to  the  poor  and 
needy."  « 

The  Press — that  great  fourth  estate — which  represents 
for  us  the  more  extended  use  of  the  tongue  in  modern 
times,  illustrates  in  the  most  vivid  way  the  service 
which  can  be  rendered  where  speech  is  fit,  and  also  the 
injury  that  can  be  done  where  it  is  rash,  imprudent, 
dishonest,  interested,  or  unjust. 

After  thus  reviewing  some  of  the  good  uses  of  the 
tongue,  and  observing  how  they  depend  on  the  state 

*  Prov.  XX.  15,  *  Prov.  xii.  6. 

2  Prov.  XV.  28.  *  Prov.  xiv.  3. 

3  Prov.  xxiv.  26.  '  Prov.  xiv.  5,  25. 

*  Prov.  xi.  9.  '  Prov.  xxxi.  8,  9. 


xii.6-2S.]  THE    TONGUE.  177 

of  the  heart/  we  cannot  help  again  laying  stress  on  the 
need  of  a  wise  self-control  in  all  that  we  say.  He  that 
refraineth  his  lips  doeth  wisely.  A  man  of  understand- 
ing holdeth  his  peace. ^  "He  that  spareth  his  words 
hath  knowledge."  ^  "  Even  a  fool  when  he  holdeth  his 
peace  is  counted  wise,  when  he  shutteth  his  lips  he 
is  prudent"*  If  only  the  uninstructed  and  foolish 
person  has  sense  enough  to  perceive  that  wisdom 
is  too  high  for  him  he  will  not  open  his  mouth  in  the 
gate,^  and  so  in  listening  he  may  learn.  "Of  thine 
unspoken  word  thou  art  master,"  says  an  Indian 
proverb,  "but  thy  spoken  word  is  master  of  thee." 
We  are  to  be  swift  to  hear,  but  slow  to  speak  :  we  are 
to  ponder  all  that  we  hear,  for  it  is  only  the  simple  that 
believes  every  word,  the  prudent  man  looks  well  to  his 
going.^  As  St.  James  says,  summing  up  all  the  teach- 
ing that  we  have  reviewed,  "  If  any  man  thinketh 
himself  to  be  religious,  while  he  bridleth  not  his  tongue, 
but  deceiveth  his  heart,  this  man's  religion  is  vain."  ^ 

And  now  there  is  only  one  other  point  to  be  noticed, 
but  it  is  one  of  vast  importance.  As  we  realize  the 
immense  power  of  the  tongue  and  the  great  issues 
which  depend  on  its  right  or  wrong  employment ;  as 

'  Note  the  intimate  connection  between  conduct  and  speech  in 
such  a  proverb  as  xvii.  4.  When  we  do  evil  we  are  always  ready 
to  listen  to  evil  talk,  when  we  talk  deceitfully  we  are  preparing  to  go 
on  to  worse  deeds  of  evil,  to  listen  to  tongues  of  destruction.  Note, 
too,  how  in  xii.  5  the  thoughts  and  the  counsels  of  the  heart  come 
before  the  words  and  the  mouth  in  v.  6. 

*  Prov.  xi.  12.  ^  Prov.  xvii.  27, 

*  Prov.  xvii.  28.     Cf.  the  old  Norse  proverb : — 

"  An  unwise  man  when  he  comes  among  the  people 
Had  best  be  silent :  no  one  knows 
That  he  nothing  knows  unless  he  talks  too  much." 
'  Prov.  xxiv.  7.  «  Prov.  xiv,  15.  "  James  i.  26. 

12 


178  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

we  sum  up  all  the  evil  which  its  tiny  unobserved  move- 
ments can  accomplish,  and  all  the  rich  blessings  which 
it  is,  under  right  supervision,  capable  of  producing ;  and 
as  from  personal  experience  we  recognise  how  difficult 
it  is  to  bridle  the  unruly  member,  how  difficult  it  is  to 
check  the  double  fountain  so  that  it  shall  send  forth 
sweet  waters  only,  and  no  bitter,  we  may  be  awed  into 
an  almost  absolute  silence,  and  be  inclined  to  put  away 
the  talent  of  speech  which  our  Lord  has  given  to  us, 
not  daring  to  use  it  lest  in  using  we  should  abuse  it. 
But  here  is  the  answer  to  our  misgiving  :  the  plans  and 
preparations  of  our  hearts  belong  to  us,  but  the  answer 
of  the  tongue  is  from  the  Lord.^  This  most  uncontroll- 
able organ  of  the  body  can  be  put  under  our  Lord's 
control.  He  is  able  to  give  us  ''  a  mouth  and  wisdom," 
and  to  make  our  words  not  our  own  but  the  utterance 
of  His  Holy  Spirit.  There  may  be  ^'  an  ocean  round 
our  words  which  overflows  and  drowns  them,"  the 
encircling  influences  of  God,  turning  even  our  faultiest 
speech  to  good  account,  neutralising  all  our  falter- 
ings  and  blunderings,  and  silencing  our  follies  and 
perversities. 

Shall  we  not  put  our  lips  under  our  Lord's  control, 
that  the  answer  of  our  tongue  may  be  from  Him  ?  While 
we  seek  daily  to  subject  our  hearts  to  Him,  shall  we 
not  in  a  pecuHar  and  a  direct  manner  subject  our 
tongues,  to  Him  ?  for  while  a  subjected  heart  may  keep 
the  mouth  from  speaking  evil,  if  the  tongue  is  to  speak 
well  and  to  be  employed  for  all  its  noble  uses  it  must 
be  immediately  moved  by  God,  our  lips  must  be  touched 
with  a  coal  from  the  altar,  our  speech  must  be  chastened 
and  purified,  inspired  and  impelled,  by  Him. 

Prov.  xvi.  I. 


XIII. 

PRIDE  AND  HUMILITY. 

"  A  wise  son  hcarcth  his  father's  instruction,  but  a  scorncr  hcarcth 
not  rebuke." — Prov.  xiii.  I. 

"Poverty  and  shame  shall  be  to  him  that  refuscth  correction,  but 
he  that  regardeth  reproof  shall  be  honoured." — Prov.  xiii.  i8. 

"  By  pride  cometh  only  contention,  but  with  the  well  advised  is 
wisdom." — Prov.  xiii.  lo, 

"Whoso  despiseth  the  word  bringeth  destruction  on  himself;  but 
he  that  feareth  the  commandment  shall  be  rewarded." — Prov.  xiii.  13. 

This  last  proverb  appears  in  another  form,  as,  "He  that  givcth 
heed  unto  the  word  shall  find  good,  and  whoso  trusteth  in  the  Lord 
happy  is  he." — Prov.  xvi.  20. 

BY  a  proud  man  we  mean  one  who  esteems  himself 
better  than  others ;  by  a  humble  man  we  mean 
one  who  counts  others  better  than  himself.  The  proud 
man  is  so  convinced  of  his  intrinsic  superiority  that 
if  appearances  are  against  him,  if  ethers  obtain  more 
recognition,  honour,  wealth  than  he,  the  fault  seems  to 
him  to  lie  in  the  evil  constitution  of  the  world,  which 
cannot  recognize  merit ;  for  his  own  intrinsic  superiority 
is  the  axiom  which  is  always  to  be  taken  for  granted  ; 
"  his  neighbours  therefore  find  no  favour  in  his  eyes, 
and  he  even  desires  their  calamity  and  ruin,"  in  order, 
as  he  would  put  it,  that  every  one  may  be  set  in  his 
due    place.^      Meanwhile    he   is   always    boasting    of 

'  Prov,  xxi.  10. 


i8o  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

possessions,  dignities,  and  gifts  which  do  not  yet,  but 
some  day  will,  appear  to  the  public  eye.     He  is  like 
clouds  which  overcast  the  sky,  and  wind  which  frets  the 
earth,  without  bringing  any  wholesome  rain.^     If,  on  the 
other  hand,  appearances  are  with  him,  if  wealth,  dignity, 
and  honour  fall  to  his  share,  he  is  affably  convinced  of 
his  own  supreme  excellence ;  the  proof  of  his  own  con- 
viction is  written  large  in  his  broad  acres,  his  swelling 
dividends,  and  his  ever-increasing  troops  of  flatterers 
and  friends  ;  and  he  moves  smoothly  on  to — what  ? — 
strange  to  say,  little  as  he  thinks  it,  to  destruction,  for 
*'  Pride  goeth  before  destruction,  and  a  haughty  spirit 
before  a  fall."  ^     If  he  only  knew  he  would  say,  '*  Better 
is   it  to  be  of  a  lowly  spirit  with   the  meek   than  to 
divide   the   spoil  with   the   proud  ;  "  ^  for  ^'  before   de- 
struction the  heart  of  man  is  haughty,  and  before  honour 
goeth  humility."  ^      The  event   shows,   if  not   in   this 
world,  yet  the  more  surely  in  the  next,  that  it  is  well 
to  "let  another  man  praise   thee,  and   not  thine  own 
mouth  ;  a  stranger,  and  not  thine  own  lips."  * 

When  our  eyes  are  open  to  see  things  as  they  are, 
we  are  no  longer  in  the  least  impressed  by  the  "  proud 
and  haughty  man  whose  name  is  scorner  working  in 
the  arrogance  of  pride."  ^  We  may  not  live  to  see  it, 
but  we  are  quite  persuaded  that  *'  a  man's  pride  shall 
bring  him  low,  but  he  that  is  of  a  lowly  spirit  shall 
obtain  honour."  ^  "  Seest  thou  a  man  wise  in  his  own 
conceit  ?  There  is  more  hope  of  a  fool  than  of  him."  ^ 
Now  what  are  the  evil  effects  of  pride,  and  what  are 
the  blessings  that  follow  on  humility  ? 

•  Prov.  XXV.  14.  *  Prov.  xxv-ii.  2.  ^  Prov.  xxix.  23. 

^  Prov.  xvi.  18,  19.  *  Prov.  xxi.  24.  '  Prov.  xxvi.  12. 

^  Prov.  xviii.  12. 


xiii.  i-iS;  xvi.20.]    PRIDE  AND  HUMILITY.  i8i 


First  of  all f  pride  cuts  a  man  off  from  all  the  salutary 
effects  of  reproof,  rebuke,  criticism,  and  counsel,  without 
which  it  is  not  possible  for  any  of  us  to  become  wise. 
"A  wise  son"  is  the  result  of  *'a  father's  correction," 
says  the  text,  and  such  a  son  makes  his  father  glad  ;  ^ 
but  the  pride  in  a  child's  heart  will  often  prevent  him 
from  receiving  even  the  correction  of  a  father,  and  will 
lead  him  to  despise  his  mother.     And  if  the  parents 
have  not  firmness  and  wisdom  enough  to  overcome  this 
childish  resistance,  it  will  grow  with  years,  and  prove 
more  and  more  disastrous.      "  He  is  in  the  way  of  life 
that  heedeth  correction,  but  he  that  forsaketh  reproof 
erreth."  ^      If    he  had    loved   reproof  he    would    have 
acquired  knowledge,  but  hating  it  he  becomes  brutish.^ 
It  is  evident  then  that  this  pride  is  folly.     He  is  a  fool 
that  despises   his  father's   correction,  but  he  that  re- 
gardeth  reproof  getteth  prudence.*      He  that  refuseth 
correction  despiseth  his  own  soul,  but  he  that  hearkeneth 
to  reproof  getteth  understanding.'^ 

When  we  are  grown  up,  and  no  longer  under  the 
tutelage  of  parents  who  love  us,  pride  is  still  more 
likely  to  harden  our  hearts  against  criticism  and 
counsel.  The  word  of  warning  falls  on  the  proud  ear 
in  vain,  just  because  it  is  the  word  of  warning,  and 
often  does  the  wilful  heart  mourn  as  it  suffers  the 
penalty   of  its  stubbornness.®      A   man   who   refuses 

'  Prov.  xiii.  I  ;  xv.  20.  *  Prov.  xv.  8. 

^  Prov.  X.  17.  ^  Prov.  xv.  32. 

'  Prov.  xii.  I. 

•  Prov.  xiii.  13  should  be  translated  :  "  Whoso  despiseth  the  word 
{sc.  of  warning  and  rebuke)  shall  be  under  a  pledge  to  it  {i.e.  he  has 
contracted  an  obligation  to  the  word  by  hearing  it,  and  in  case  of 
disobedience  will  have  to  redeem  this  implicit  pledge  by  suffering  and 
remorse),  but  he  that  feareth  the  commandment  shall  be  rewarded." 


i82  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

correction  is  a  synonym  for  poverty  and  shame.^  These 
words  which  we  in  our  pride  despise  might  be  an 
incalculable  benefit  to  us.  Even  the  most  witless 
criticism  may  be  useful  to  a  humble  mind,  even  the 
most  unjust  attacks  may  lead  us  to  wholesome  self- 
searching,  and  to  a  more  careful  removal  of  possible 
offences.  While  if  the  criticism  is  fair,  and  prompted 
by  a  kind  heart,  or  if  the  rebuke  is  administered  by  one 
whose  wisdom  and  justice  we  respect,  it  is  likely  to  do 
us  far  more  good  than  praise  and  approval.  "A  rebuke 
entereth  deeper  into  one  that  hath  understanding  than 
a  hundred  stripes  into  a  fool "  ^  ''  Better  is  open  re- 
buke than  love  that  is  hid."  ^  If  we  were  wise  we 
should  value  this  plain  and  honest  speaking  much  more 
than  the  insipid  flattery  which  is  often  dictated  by 
interested  motives."*  In  fact,  praise  is  a  very  question- 
able benefit ;  it  is  of  no  use  at  all  unless  we  carefully 
test  it,  and  try  it,  and  accept  it  with  the  greatest  caution, 
for  only  a  small  part  of  it  is  pure  metal,  most  of  it  is 
mere  dross  ;  ■'  and  praise  that  is  not  deserved  is  the 
most  dangerous  and  deleterious  of  dehghts.  But  re- 
buke and  criticism  cannot  do  us  much  harm.  Many 
great  and  noble  men  have  been  ruined  by  admiration 


'  Prov.  xiii.  17.  ^  Prov.  xxvii.  5. 

^  Prov.  xvii.  10.  ■*  Prov,  xxviii.  23. 

^  Prov.  xxvii.  21  :  "The  fining  pot  is  for  silver  and  the  furnace  for 
gold,  and  a  man  for  the  mouth  of  his  praise."  This  somew^hat 
obscure  aphorism  is  most  simply  explained  thus  : — A  man  should 
make  his  conscience  a  kind  of  furnace,  in  which  he  tries  all  the 
laudatory  things  which  are  said  of  him,  accepting  only  the  refined 
and  pure  metal  which  results  from  such  a  test,  and  rejecting  the 
dross.  This  is  simpler  than,  with  Delitzsch,  to  explain,  "  a  man  is 
tested  by  the  praise  which  is  bestowed  upon  him  as  silver  and  gold 
are  tested  in  the  fire." 


xiii.  i-iS;xvi.20.]    PRIDE  AND   HUMILITY.  183 

and  popularity,  who  might  have  thriven,  growing  greater 
and  nobler,  in  the  fiercest  and  most  relentless  criticism. 
Donatello,  the  great  Florentine  sculptor,  went  at  one 
time  of  his  life  to  Padua,  where  he  was  received  with 
the  utmost  enthusiasm,  and  loaded  with  approbation 
and  honours.  But  soon  he  declared  his  intention  of 
returning  to  Florence,  on  the  ground  that  the  sharp 
assaults  and  the  cutting  criticisms  which  always  assailed 
him  in  his  native  city  were  much  more  favourable  to 
his  art  than  the  atmosphere  of  admiration  and  eulogy. 
In  this  way  he  thought  that  he  would  be  stimulated 
to  greater  efforts,  and  ultimately  attain  to  a  surer 
reputation.  In  the  same  spirit  the  greatest  of  modern 
art  critics  has  told  us  how  valuable  to  him  were  the 
criticisms  which  his  humble  Italian  servant  made  on 
his  drawings.  Certainly,  ''with  those  who  allow  them- 
selves to  be  advised  is  wisdom."  ^  *'  He  that  trusteth 
in  his  own  heart,"  and  cannot  receive  the  advice  of 
others,  "is  a  fool  ;  but  whoso  walketh  wisely  he  shall 
be  delivered,"  sometimes  perhaps  by  the  humble  sug- 
gestions of  very  simple  people." 

Yes,  ''  with  the  lowly  is  wisdom  :  "  ^  they  "  hearken 
to  counsel,"  ^  and  in  doing  so  they  get  the  advantage  of 
many  other  wits,  while  the  proud  man  is  confined  strictly 
to  his  own,  and  however  great  his  capacity  may  be,  it 
is  hardly  probable  that  he  will  sum  up  all  human  wisdom 
in  himself.  The  lowly  gives  heed  to  the  word,  no 
matter  who  speaks  it,  and  finds  good ; ''  he  abides 
among  the  wise,  because  he  is  always  ready  to  learn  ; 
consequently,  he  becomes  wise,  and  eventually  he  gets 

'  Prov.  xiii.  10.  ^  Prov.  xi.  2.  *  Prov.  xvi.  20. 

*  Prov.  xxviii.  26.  ^  Prov.  xii.  15^. 


1^4  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

the  honour  which  he  deserves.^  It  is  in  this  way  that 
people  of  lowly  station  and  very  moderate  abilities 
often  come  to  the  front.  "  A  servant  that  deals  wisely 
has  rule  over  a  son  that  causes  shame,  and  has  part  in 
the  inheritance  among  the  brethren."^  To  a  crafty  son 
no  good  shall  be,  but  to  a  servant  who  is  wise  his 
actions  shall  prosper  and  his  way  be  made  straight.^ 
The  consciousness  of  not  being  clever,  and  a  wise 
diffidence  in  our  own  judgment,  will  often  make  us  very 
thankful  to  learn  from  others  and  save  us  from  the 
follies  of  wilfulness ;  and  thus  very  much  to  their  own 
astonishment  the  humble  find  that  they  have  out- 
distanced their  more  brilliant  competitors  in  the  race, 
and,  walking  in  their  humility,  unexpectedly  light  upon 
recognition  and  admiration,  honour  and  love. 

This  first  point,  then,  becomes  very  clear  in  the  light 
of  experience.  One  of  the  most  injurious  effects  of 
Pride  is  to  cut  off  its  miserable  victim  from  all  the 
vast  help  and  service  w^hich  rebuke  and  criticism  can 
render  to  the  humble.  One  of  the  sweetest  results  of 
a  genuine  humility  is  that  it  brings  us  to  the  feet  of 
all  wise  teachers ;  it  multiplies  lessons  for  us  in  all  the 
objects  which  surround  us ;  it  enables  us  to  learn  even 
from  those  who  seem  to  be  too  captious  to  teach,  or  too 
malevolent  to  be  even  wise.  The  humble  mind  has  all 
the  wisdom  of  the  ages  as  its  possession,  and  all  the 
folly  of  fools  as  an  invaluable  warning. 

Secondly,   by    pride   comes    nothing    but  strife,*  and 

*  Prov.  XV.  31,  33.  ^  Prov.  x\di.  2. 

This  is  an  addition  of  the  LXX.  to  xiii.  13,  and  may  represent  an 
original  Hebrew  text.  For  the  idea  cp.  Eccles.  x.  25,  "  Unto  the 
servant  that  is  wise  shall  they  that  are  free  do  service." 

*  Prov.  xiii.  10. 


xiii.  i-i8;  xvi.20.]    PRIDE  AND  HUMILITY.  185 

he  loveth  transgression  that  loveth  strife ;  he  that 
raiseth  high  his  gate,  />.,  builds  a  lofty  house,  seeketh 
destruction.^  It  is  the  pride  of  monarchs  and  nations 
which  produces  war  ;  the  sense  of  personal  dignity  which 
is  always  sudden  and  quick  in  quarrel ;  the  feeling  of 
swollen  self-importance  which  is  afraid  to  make  peace 
lest  it  should  suffer  in  the  eyes  of  men.  And  in  the 
affairs  of  private  life  our  pride,  rather  than  our  sense  of 
right,  usually  creates,  fosters,  and  embitters  divisions, 
alienations,  and  quarrels.  "  I  am  perfectly  innocent," 
says  Pride  ;  "  I  bear  no  resentment,  but  it  would  be 
absurd  for  me  to  make  the  first  advances ;  when  those 
advances  are  made,  I  am  willing  to  forgive  and  to 
forget."  "  I  think  I  am  innocent,"  says  HumiHty,  "  but 
then  I  may  have  been  very  provoking,  and  I  may  have 
given  offence  without  knowing  it ;  in  any  case,  I  may 
as  well  make  an  offer  of  apology ;  if  I  fail,  I  fail." 

Nor  is  this  the  only  way  in  which  strife  grows  out 
of  pride,  for  "  by  pride  comes  Clothing  but  strife."  All 
the  foolish  extravagances  of  social  competition  are  to 
be  traced  to  the  same  source.  One  man  "raises  high 
his  gate,"  builds  a  fine  house,  and  furnishes  it  in  the 
best  way.  He  flatters  himself  that  his  "  little  place  " 
is  tolerably  comfortable,  and  he  speaks  with  some  con- 
temptuous pity  of  all  his  neighbours'  houses.  Imme- 
diately all  his  neighbours  enviously  strive  to  excel  him, 
and  pride  vies  with  pride,  heartburnings  are  many  and 
bitter.  Then  there  comes  on  the  scene  one  who  in 
wealth  and  ostentation  of  wealth  exceeds  them  all,  and 
the  first  man  is  now  racked  with  envy,  strains  every 
nerve  to  outdo  the  insolent  intruder,  suffers  his  debts 

'  Prov.  xvii.  19. 


1 86  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

to  far  exceed  his  assets,  and  soon  incurs  the  inevitable 
crash.  That  is  how  pride  works  in  one  very  obvious 
department  of  social  life.  But  it  is  the  same  in  every 
other  department.  Who  can  calculate  the  miseries 
which  are  produced  by  the  grotesque  assumptions  of 
poor  mortals  to  be  superior  to  their  fellow-mortals  ? 
Parents  will  mar  their  children's  lives  by  refusing  their 
consent  to  marriages  with  those  who,  for  some  perfectly 
artificial  reason,  are  held  to  be  beneath  them ;  or  will 
still  more  fatally  ruin  their  children's  happiness  by 
insisting  on  alliances  with  those  who  are  held  to  be 
above  them.  Those  who  prosper  in  the  world  will 
heartlessly  turn  their  backs  on  relations  who  have  not 
prospered.  Men  who  earn  their  living  in  one  particular 
way,  or  in  no  particular  way,  will  loftily  contemn  those 
who  earn  their  Hving  in  another  particular  way.  Those 
who  dress  in  the  fashion  will  look  in  another  direction 
when  they  pass  people  who  do  not  dress  in  the  fashion, 
though  they  may  be  under  deep  obligations  to  these 
slighted  friends.  This  is  all  the  work  of  pride.  Then 
there  are  the  sneers,  the  taunts,  the  sarcasms,  the  proud 
man's  scorn,  like  "  a  rod  in  the  mouth  "  indeed,^  which 
falls  with  cutting  cruelty  on  many  tender  backs  and 
gentle  faces.  The  overbearing  temper  of  one  who 
^'  bears  himself  insolently  and  is  confident  "^  will  some- 
times take  all  the  sweetness  out  of  life  for  some  delicate 
woman,  or  shrinking  child,  or  humble  dependent,  bruising 
the  poor  spirit,  rending  the  terrified  heart,  unnerving 
and  paralysing  the  weaker  and  more  helpless  nature. 

From  first  to  last  this  haughty  spirit  is  a  curse  and 
a  torment  to  everyone,  and  not  least  to  itself     It  is 

'  Prov.  xiv,  3.  ^  Prov.  xiv,  16. 


xiii.  i-iS;xvi.20.]    PRIDE  AND  HUMILITY.  1S7 

like  a  cold  and  biting  wind.  It  is  like  an  erosive  acid. 
It  produces  more  sorrows  than  the  north  wind  produces 
icicles.  It  mars  more  lives  than  anyone  but  God  is 
able  to  count.  It  breaks  the  hearts  of  the  humble,  it 
excites  the  passions  of  the  wrathful,  it  corrupts  the 
conduct  of  the  weak.  It  ruins  children,  it  poisons 
social  life,  it  inflames  differences,  and  plunges  great 
nations  into  war. 

If  it  were  permitted  to  enter  heaven,  it  would  turn 
heaven  into  hell,  it  would  range  the  hosts  of  heaven  in 
envious  cliques  and  mutually  scornful  castes,  it  would 
make  the  meek  spirit  sigh  for  earth,  where  there  was  at 
least  the  hope  of  death,  and  would  turn  the  very  presence 
and  power  of  God  into  a  constant  object  of  envy  and  an 
incentive  to  rebellion.  It  is  obvious,  then,  that  pride 
cannot  enter  heaven,  and  the  proud  man,  if  he  is  to 
enter,  must  humble  himself  as  a  little  child. 

Third — and  this  leads  us  to  contemplate  the  worst 
result  of  Pride  and  the  loveliest  outcome  of  Humility — 
*'  Every  one  that  is  proud  of  heart  is  an  abomination  to 
the  Lord ;  though  hand  join  in  hand  he  shall  not  be 
unpunished."^  "The  Lord  will  root  up  the  house  of 
the  proud ;  but  He  will  establish  the  border  of  the 
widow." "  In  a  word,  Pride  is  hateful  to  God,  who 
resists  the  proud  and  gives  grace  to  the  humble.  The 
proud  man,  whether  he  knows  it  or  not,  comes  into 
direct  conflict  with  God  :  he  may  not  intend  it,  but  he  is 
pitting  himself  against  the  Omnipotent.  That  hardening 
of  the  face  is  a  sign  of  evil,  just  as  the  patient  humble 
ordering  of  the  way  is  a  sign  of  righteousness.^  In  that 
high  look  and  proud  heart  there  seems  to  be  something 

'  Prov.  xvi.  5.  2  I'rov.  xv.  25.  ^  Prov.  xxi.  29. 


1 88  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

dignified,  flashing,  and  luminous ;  it  is  undoubtedly 
much  admired  by  men.  By  God  it  is  not  admired ;  it  is 
regarded  merely  as  the  lamp  of  the  wicked,  and  as  sin.^ 
The  light,  such  as  it  is,  comes  from  hell ;  it  is  the  same 
light  that  burned  on  the  faces  of  the  apostate  angels 
"  o'erwhelmed  with  floods  and  whirlwinds  of  tempestuous 
fire."  The  proud  man  dares  the  thunderbolts  of  God. 
He  scorns  men  whom  he  sees,  and  in  doing  so  he  scorns 
God  whom  he  has  not  seen ;  the  men  whom  he  con- 
sciously scorns  cannot,  but  the  God  whom  he  unwit- 
tingly scorns  will,  take  vengeance  upon  him.  He  has 
hardened  his  heart,  he  has  grown  great  in  his  own  eyes, 
he  has  despised  the  creatures  made  in  God's  image ;  he 
will  suddenly  be  cut  off,  and  that  without  remedy. 

On  the  other  hand,  by  humility  men  learn  to  know 
and  to  fear  the  Lord.^  God  reveals  Himself  to  the 
humble  heart,  not  as  a  King  of  Terrors,  but  kind  and 
good,  with  healing  in  His  wings,  leading  the  contrite 
spirit  to  implicit  trust  in  Himself,  and  "  whoso  trusteth 
in  the  Lord,  happy  is  he."  ^  When  we  reahze  this  we 
cannot  wonder  that  so  few  people  seem  to  know  God ; 
men  are  too  proud ;  they  think  of  themselves  more 
highly  than  they  ought  to  think,  and  consequently  they 
do  not  think  at  all  of  Him  ;  they  receive  honour  one 
of  another,  and  eagerly  desire  such  honour,  and  con- 
sequently they  cannot  believe  in  Him,  for  to  beHeve  in 
Him  implies  the  desire  of  no  honour  except  such  as 
comes  from  Him. 

It  is  a  strange   truth  that   God   should  dwell  in  a 

^  Prov.  xxi.  4. 

^  Prov.  xxii.  4.      The   probable    rendering   is,    "  The  outcome  ol 
humility  is  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  riches,  honour,  and  life." 
*  Prev.  xvi.  20. 


xiii.  i-iS;xvi.20.]    PRIDE  AND  HUMILITY.  189 

human  heart  at  all,  but  it  is  almost  self-evident  that 
if  He  is  to  dwell  in  any  human  heart  it  must  be  in 
one  which  has  been  emptied  of  all  pride,  one  which 
has,  as  it  were,  thrown  down  all  the  barriers  of  self- 
importance,  and  laid  itself  open  to  the  incoming  Spirit. 
If  we  cling  to  ever  so  little  of  our  natural  egotism ;  if  we 
dwell  on  any  imagined  excellence,  purity,  or  power  of 
our  own ;  if  we  are  conscious  of  any  elation,  any  spring- 
ing sense  of  merit,  which  would  set  us,  in  our  own 
judgment,  on  some  equality  with  God, — how  could 
the  High  and  Lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  Eternity  enter 
in  ?  That  thought  of  vanity  would  seek  to  divide  our 
nature  with  Him,  would  enter  into  negotiations  for  a 
joint  occupation,  and  the  insulted  Spirit  of  God  would 
depart. 

If  in  ordinary  human  affairs  "  before  destruction  the 
heart  of  man  is  haughty,  and  before  honour  goeth 
humility ; "  ^  if  even  in  our  dealings  with  one  another 
happiness  and  success  and  prosperity  depend  on  the 
cultivation  of  a  modest  spirit,  how  much  more  when  we 
come  to  deal  with  God  must  haughtiness  appear  the 
presage  of  destruction,  and  humility  the  only  way  of 
approach  to  Him  ! 

It  is  not  possible  to  think  too  humbly  of  yourself,  it 
is  not  possible  to  be  too  lowly,  you  cannot  abase  your- 
self too  much  in  His  Holy  Presence.  Your  only 
attitude  is  that  of  Moses  when  he  took  off  his  shoes 
because  the  place  he  stood  on  was  holy  ground;  or  that 
of  Isaiah  when  he  cried  out  that  he  was  "  a  man  of 
unclean  lips."  To  those  who  know  you  your  humilia- 
tions   may    sound    excessive, — as    we    are    told    the 

*  Prov.  xviii.  12. 


IQO  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

disciples  of  St.  Francis  remonstrated  with  him  for  his 
self-depreciation  ^ — but  not  to  God  or  to  your  own  heart. 
And  He,  if  He  has  set  His  love  upon  you,  and  purposes 
to  make  you  a  temple  for  His  indweUing,  will  use 
method  after  method  of  humbling  you  to  prepare  for 
His  entrance.  Again  and  again  you  will  say,  Surely 
now  I  am  low  enough,  am  I  not  humbled  in  the  dust  ? 
But  His  hand  will  still  be  upon  you,  and  He  will  show 
you  heads  of  pride  which  have  yet  to  be  levelled  down. 
In  the  last  humbling  you  will  find  that  there  is  rising 
within  you  a  certain  pride  in  the  humility  itself.  That 
alsow^ill  He  subdue.  And  some  day,  if  you  are  willing, 
you  shall  be  lowly  enough  for  the  Most  High  to  dwell 
in,  humble  enough  to  offer  a  perpetual  incense  of 
praise. 

*  The  answer  of  the  saint  was  very  characteristic.  Could  he 
really  believe  that  he  was  so  vile  as  he  said,  when  he  compared 
himself  with  others  who  were  obviously  worse?  "Ah,"  he  said, 
"  it  is  when  I  recount  all  God's  exceptional  mercies  to  me  that  I  seem 
to  myself  the  worst  of  men,  for  others  have  not  had  such  favours  at 
His  hands." 


XIV. 

THE  INWARD   UNAPPROACHABLE  LIFE. 

"  The  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness,  and  a  stranger  doth  not 
intermeddle  with  its  joy," — Prov.  xiv.  lo. 

"  Even  in  laughter,  the  heart  is  sorrowful,  and  the  end  of  mirth  is 
heaviness." — Prov.  xiv.  13. 

"  Yes  !  in  the  sea  of  life  enisled, 
With  echoing  straits  between  us  thrown, 
Dotting  the  shoreless  watery  wild. 
We  mortal  millions  live  alone. 
The  islands  feel  the  enclasping  flow, 
And  then  their  endless  bounds  they  know." 

Matthew  Arnold. 

WE  know  each  other's  appearance,  it  is  true,  but 
there  for  the  most  part  our  mutual  knowledge 
ceases.  Some  of  us  unveil  nothing  of  ourselves  to 
anyone  ;  some  of  us  unveil  a  little  to  all ;  some  a  good 
deal  to  a  few  ;  but  none  of  us  can  unveil  all  even  to  the 
most  intimate  friend.  It  is  possible  to  live  on  terms 
of  complete  confidence  and  even  close  intimacy  with  a 
person  for  many  years,  to  become  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  his  habits,  his  turns  of  expression,  his  modes  of 
thought,  to  be  able  to  say  with  a  certain  infallibility 
what  course  he  will  take  in  such  and  such  circumstances 
— and  yet  to  find  by  some  chance  uplifting  of  a  curtain 
in  his  life  that  he  cherished  feelings  which  you  never 
even  suspected,  suffered  pains  of  which  you  had  seen 


192  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

no  trace,  and  enjoyed  pleasures  which  never  came  to 
any  outward  expression. 

H®w  true  this  is  we  realize  at  once  if  we  turn  in- 
wards and  review  all  the  thoughts  which  chase  each 
other  through  our  brain,  and  all  the  emotions  which 
throb  in  our  heart  for  a  single  day,  and  then  deduct 
those  which  are  known  to  any  human  being,  known  or 
even  suspected ;  the  sum  total  we  find  is  hardly  affected 
at  all.  We  are  quite  startled  to  discover  how  absolutely 
alone  we  live,  how  impossible  it  is  for  a  stranger,  or 
even  for  an  intimate  friend,  to  meddle  with  more  than 
a  fragment  of  our  inner  life.  This  is  not  because  we 
have  any  wish  to  conceal,  but  rather  because  we  are 
not  able  to  reveal,  our  silent  unseen  selves ;  it  is  not 
because  others  would  not  like  to  know,  but  because 
they  have  not  the  instruments  to  investigate,  that 
within  us  which  we  on  our  part  are  quite  helpless  to 
express. 

For  instance,  ^'the  desire  accomplished  is  sweet  to 
the  soul,"^  yet  no  one  can  know  how  sweet  but  he 
who  cherished  the  desire.  When  a  man  has  laboured 
for  many  years  to  secure  an  adequate  maintenance  for 
his  family,  and  at  length  finds  himself  in  easy  circum- 
stances, with  his  children  growing  up  around  him  well 
and  happy,  no  one  besides  himself  can  in  the  least  gauge 
the  sense  of  satisfaction,  contentment,  and  gratitude 
which  animates  his  heart,  because  no  one  can  realize 
without  actual  experience  the  long  and  anxious  days, 
the  sickening  fears,  the  blighted  hopes,  the  rigorous 
sacrifices,  through  which  he  passed  to  attain  his  end. 
Or,  when  an  artist  has  been  toiling  for  many  years  to 

'  Prov.  xiii.  19. 


xiv.  lo,  13.]    THE  INIVARD  UNAPPROACHABLE  LIFE.     193 


realize  upon  canvas  a  vision  of  beauty  which  floats 
before  the  inward  eye,  and  at  last  succeeds,  by  some 
happy  combination  of  colours,  or  by  some  dexterous 
sweep  of  the  brush,  or  by  some  half-inspired  harmony 
of  form  and  composition,  in  actually  bodying  forth  to 
the  senses  that  which  has  haunted  his  imagination,  it 
is  hopeless  for  any  one  else  to  understand  the  thrilling 
joy,  the  light-hearted  ecstasy,  which  are  hidden  rather 
than  expressed  by  the  quiet  flush  on  the  cheek  and 
the  sparkling  glance  of  the  eye. 

The  mystical  joy  of  a  love  which  has  just  won  an 
answering  love;  the  deep-toned  joy  of  the  mother  in  the 
dawning  life  of  her  child  ;  the  joy  of  the  poet  who  feels 
all  the  beauty  of  the  earth  and  the  sky  pulsing  through 
his  nerves  and  raising  his  heart  to  quick  intuitions  and 
melodious  numbers ;  the  joy  of  the  student,  when  the 
luminous  outhnes  of  truth  begin  to  shape  themselves 
before  his  mind  in  connected  form  and  startling  beauty ; 
the  joy  of  one  who  has  toiled  for  the  restoration  of  lost 
souls,  and  sees  the  fallen  and  degraded  awaking  to 
a  new  life,  cleansed,  radiant  and  strong ;  the  joy  of 
the  martyr  of  humanity,  whose  dying  moments  are  lit 
with  visions,  and  who  hears  through  the  mysterious 
silences  of  death  the  voices  of  those  who  will  one  day 
call  him  blessed, — joys  like  these  may  be  described  in 
words,  but  they  who  experience  them  know  that  the 
words  are,  relatively  speaking,  meaningless,  and  they 
who  do  not  experience  them  can  form  no  conception 
of  them.  "When  the  desire  cometh  it  is  a  tree  of  life,"^ 
which  suddenly  springs  up  in  the  garden  of  the  heart, 
puts  forth  its  jubilant  leaves  of  healing,  flashes  with 

'  Prov.  xiii.  12. 

13 


194  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS 

white  wings  of  scented  blossom,  and  droops  with  its 
full  offering  of  golden  fruit,  as  if  by  magic,  and  we  are 
surprised  ourselves  that  those  around  us  do  not  see 
the  wonder,  do  not  smell  the  perfume,  do  not  taste 
the  fruit :  we  alone  can  sit  under  its  branches,  we 
alone  can  catch  the  murmur  of  the  wind,  the  music  of 
achievement,  in  its  leaves. 

But  this  thought  becomes  very  pathetic  when  we 
think  of  the  heart's  bitterness,  which  the  heart  alone 
can  know,' — the  hope  deferred  which  makes  it  sick,  ^ 
the  broken  spirit  which  dries  up  the  bones,^  the  spirit 
which  for  so  long  bore  a  man's  infirmity,  and  then  at 
last  broke  because  it  could  bear  no  more,  and  became 
itself  intolerable.^  The  circumstances  of  a  man's  life 
do  not  give  us  any  clue  to  his  sorrows  ;  the  rich  have 
troubles  which  to  the  poor  would  seem  incredible,  and 
the  poor  have  troubles  which  their  poverty  does  not 
explain.  There  are  little  constitutional  ailments,  defects 
in  the  blood,  slight  deformities,  unobserved  disabilities, 
which  fill  the  heart  with  a  bitterness  untold  and  un- 
imaginable. There  are  crosses  of  the  affections,  dis- 
appointments of  the  ambitions  ;  there  are  frets  of  the 
family,  worries  of  business ;  there  are  the  haunting 
Furies  of  past  indiscretions,  the  pitiless  reminders  of 
half- forgotten  pledges.  There  are  weary  doubts  and 
misgivings,  suspicions  and  fears,  which  poison  all  in- 
ward peace,  and  take  light  out  of  the  eye  and  elasticity 
out  of  the  step.  These  things  the  heart  knows,  but 
no  one  else  knows. 

What  adds  to  the  pathos  is  that  these  sorrows  are 
often  covered  with  laughter  as  with  a  veil,  and  no  one 

*  Prov.  xiii.  12.  ^  Prov.  xvii.  22.  ^  Pro  v.  xviii.  14. 


xiv.  lo,  13.]    THE  INJVARD  UNAPPROACHABLE  LIFE.     195 

suspects  that  the  end  of  all  this  apparently  spontaneous 
mirth  is  to  be  heaviness.^  The  bright  talker,  the  merry 
jester,  the  singer  of  the  gay  song,  goes  home  when  the 
party  separates,  and  on  his  threshold  he  meets  the 
veiled  sorrow  of  his  life,  and  plunges  into  the  chilly 
shadow  in  which  his  days  are  spent. 

The  bitterness  which  surges  in  our  brother's  heart 
would  probably  be  unintelligible  to  us  if  he  revealed  it ; 
but  he  will  not  reveal  it,  he  cannot.  He  will  tell  us 
some  of  his  troubles,  many  of  them,  but  the  bitterness 
he  must  keep  to  himself. 

How  strange  it  seems  !  Here  are  men  and  women 
around  us  who  are  unfathomable ;  the  heart  is  a  kind 
of  infinite ;  we  skim  the  surface,  we  cannot  sound  the 
depths.  Here  is  a  merry  heart  which  makes  a  cheerful 
countenance,  but  here  is  a  countenance  unclouded  and 
smiling  which  covers  a  spirit  quite  broken.-  Here  is  a 
cheerful  heart  which  enjoys  a  continual  feast,^  and  finds 
in  its  own  merriment  a  medicine  for  its  troubles  ;*  but 
we  cannot  find  the  secret  of  the  cheerfulness,  or  catch 
the  tone  of  the  merriment,  any  more  than  we  can  com- 
prehend what  it  is  which  is  making  all  the  days  of  the 
afflicted  evil."' 

We  are  confined  as  it  were  to  the  superficial  effects, 
the  lights  and  shadows  which  cross  the  face,  and  the 
feelings  which  express  themselves  in  the  tones  of  the 
voice.  We  can  guess  a  little  of  what  lies  underneath, 
but  our  guesses  are  as  often  wrong  as  right.  The 
index  is  disconnected,  perhaps  purposely,  from  the 
reality.     Sometimes  we    know  that  a  heart  is    bitter, 


Prov.  xiv.  13.  '  Prov.  xv.  156.  *  Prov.  xv.  15. 

''  Prov  xvii.  22. 


196  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

but  do  not  even  surmise  the  cause ;  more  often  it  is 
bitter  and  we  do  not  know  it.  We  are  veiled  to  one 
another  ;  we  know  our  own  troubles,  we  feel  our  own 
joys,  that  is  all  we  can  say. 

And  yet  the  strangest  thing  of  all  is  that  we  hunger 
for  sympathy ;  we  all  want  to  see  that  light  in  the  eyes 
of  our  friends  which  rejoices  the  heart,  and  to  hear 
those  good  things  which  make  the  bones  fat.^  Our 
joy  is  eager  to  disclose  itself,  and  often  shrinks  back 
appalled  to  find  that  our  companions  did  not  under- 
stand it,  but  mistook  it  for  an  affectation  or  an  illusion. 
Our  sorrow  yearns  for  comprehension,  and  is  constantly 
doubled  in  quantity  and  intensity  by  finding  that  it 
cannot  explain  itself  or  become  intelligible  to  others. 
This  rigid  and  necessary  isolation  of  the  human  heart, 
along  with  such  a  deep-rooted  desire  for  sympathy,  is 
one  of  the  most  perplexing  paradoxes  of  our  nature  ; 
and  though  we  know  well  that  it  is  a  fact,  we  are 
constantly  re-discovering  it  with  a  fresh  surprise.  For- 
getting it,  we  assume  that  every  one  will  know  how 
we  need  sympathy,  though  we  have  never  hung  out 
the  signals  of  distress,  and  have  even  presented  a  most 
repellent  front  to  all  advances  ;  forgetting  it,  we  give 
expression  to  our  joy,  singing  songs  to  heavy  hearts, 
and  disturbing  others  by  unseasonable  mirth,  as  ii 
no  icy  channels  separated  us  from  our  neighbours' 
hearts,  making  our  gladness  seem  frigid  and  our 
merriment  discordant  before  it  reaches  their  ears. 
Yes  the  paradox  forces  itself  on  our  attention  again; 
human  hearts  are  isolated,  alone,  without  adequate 
communication,  and   essentially  uncommunicative,  yet 

*  Prov.  XV.  30. 


xiv.  10,  13.]    THE  IMVARD  UXAPrROACIIABLE  LIFE,     igj 


all  of  them  eagerly  desiring  to  be  understood,  to  be 
searched,  to  be  fused.  Is  it  a  paradox  which  admits 
of  any  explanation  ?    Let  us  see. 

It  has  been  very  truly  said,  "  Man  is  only  partially 
understood,  or  pitied,  or  loved  by  man  ;  but  for  the 
fulness  of  these  things  he  must  go  to  some  far-off 
country."  In  proportion  as  we  are  conscious  of  being 
misunderstood,  and  of  being  quite  unable  to  satisfy  our 
longing  for  sympathy  and  comprehension  at  human 
fountains,  we  are  impelled  by  a  spiritual  instinct 
to  ask  for  God  ;  the  thought  arises  in  us  that  He, 
though  He  be  very  far  off,  must,  as  our  Creator, 
understand .  us ;  and  as  this  thought  takes  possession 
of  the  heart  a  tremulous  hope  awakes  that  perhaps 
He  is  not  very  far  off.  There  lie  before  us  now 
some  beautiful  sayings  which  are  partly  the  expression 
of  this  human  conviction,  and  seem  partly  to  be 
inspired  by  the  Divine  response  to  it.  "If  thou 
sayest,  Behold,  we  knew  not  this  man  ;  doth  not 
He  that  weigheth  the  heart  consider,  and  he  that 
keepeth  the  soul,  doth  not  He  know  ?  "  ^  "The  hear- 
ing ear,  and  the  seeing  eye,  the  Lord  hath  made  even 
both  of  them."  ^  How  obvious  is  the  inference  that 
the  Maker  of  the  ear  and  the  eye  hears  those  silent 
things  which  escape  the  ear  itself,  and  sees  those 
recesses  of  the  human  heart  which  the  human  eye  is 
never  able  to  search  !  "  The  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  in 
every  place,  keeping  watch  upon  the  evil  and  the  good."^ 
''  Sheol  and  Abaddon  are  before  the  Lord  :  how  much 
more  then  the  hearts  of  the  children  of  men."  *     He 

'  Prov.  xxiv.  12,  marginal  reading.  ^  Prov.  xv.  3, 

*  Prov.  XX.  12.  *  Prov.  xv.  ii. 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


sees  in  the  heart  what  the  heart  itself  does  not  see. 
*'  All  the  ways  of  a  man  are  clean  in  his  own  eyes,  but 
the  Lord  weigheth  the  spirits."  ^  In  fact,  the  spirit 
of  man  itself,  the  consciousness  which  clears  into  self- 
consciousness,  and  becomes  in  moral  matters  conscience, 
this  "  spirit,  is  the  lamp  of  the  Lord,  searching  all  the 
innermost  parts  of  the  belly," '"  so  that  a  ''  man's  goings 
are  of  the  Lord ; "  and  he  is  often  moved  by  this  in- 
dwelling spirit  and  guided  by  this  mysterious  lamp  in 
a  way  which  ''he  can  hardly  understand."  ^ 

This  intimacy  of  knowledge  is  not  without  its  most 
solemn,  and  even  terrible,  side.  It  means  of  course 
that  the  Lord  knows  ''  the  thoughts  of  the  righteous 
which  are  just,  and  the  counsels  of  the  wicked  which 
are  deceit."  ^  It  means  that  out  of  His  minute  and 
infallible  knowledge  He  will  render  to  every  man 
according  to  his  works,  judging  with  faultless  accuracy 
according  to  that  "desire  of  a  man  which  is  the  measure 
of  his  kindness,"  recognizing  the  "  wish  of  the  poor 
man,"  which,  though  he  has  not  power  to  perform  it,  is 
more  valuable  than  the  boasted  performances  of  those 
who  never  act  up  to  their  power  of  service.'^  It  means 
that  ''the  Lord  trieth  the  hearts  just  as  the  fining  pot 
tries  the  silver,  and  the  furnace  the  gold."  ^  It  means 
that  in  thought  of  such  a  searching  eye,  such  a  compre- 
hensive understanding  on  the  part  of  the  Holy  One, 
none  of  us  can  ever  say,  "  I  have  made  my  heart 
clean,  I  am  pure  from  my  sin."  '^ 

All  this  it  means,  and  there  must  be  some  terror  in 

'  Prov.  xvi.  2,  rep.  xxi.  2.  ^  Prov.  xix.  22. 

■^  Prov.  XX.  27.  ^  Prov.  xvii.  3. 

^  Prov.  XX.  24.  '  Prov.  xx.  9. 
*  Prov.  xii.  5. 


xiv.  lo,  13-]    THE  INWARD  UNAPPROACHABLE  LIFE.     199 

the  thought ;    but  the  terror,  as  we  begin   to   under- 
stand,   becomes   our   greatest    comfort ;    for    He    who 
thus  understands  us  is  the  Holy  One.     Terrible  would 
it  be  to   be  searched   and  known  in  this  minute  way 
by  one  who  was  not  holy,  by  one  who  was  morally 
indifferent,    by   one   who    took   a   curious   interest   in 
studying  the  pathology  of  the  conscience,  or  by  one 
who  had  a  malignant  delight  in  cherishing  vices  and 
rewarding  evil  thoughts.     Though  we  sometimes  desire 
human  sympathy  in  our  corrupt  passions  and   unhal- 
lowed desires,   and  are  eager  for  our  confederates  in 
sin  to  understand  our  pleasures  and  our  pains, — and 
out  of  this   desire,  it   may  be   observed,  comes  much 
of  our  base   literature,  and   all  of  our  joining  with  a 
company  to  do  evil, — yet  after  all  we  only  desire  this 
confederacy  on  the  understanding  that  we  can  reveal 
as  little,  and  conceal  as  much,  as  we  like ;  we  should 
no  longer  be  eager  to  share  our  feelings  if  we  under- 
stood that  in  the  first  contact  our  whole  heart  would 
be  laid  bare,  and  all  the  intricacies  of  our  mind  would 
be  explored.    We  must  desire  that  He  who  is  to  search 
us  through  and  through  should  be  holy,  and  even  though 
He  be  strict  to  mark  iniquity,  should  be  one  who  tries 
the  heart  in  order   to  purify  it.       And  when  we   are 
awakened  and  understand,  we  learn  to  rejoice  exceed- 
ingly that   He  who  comes  with    His  lamp  to   search 
the  inmost  recesses  of  our  nature  is  He  who  can  by 
no  means  tolerate  iniquity,  or  pass  over  transgression, 
but  must  burn  as  a  mighty  fire  wherever  He  finds  the 
fuel  of  sin  to  burn. 

Have  we  not  found  a  solution  of  the  paradox  ?  The 
human  heart  is  isolated  ;  it  longs  for  sympathy,  but 
cannot  obtain  it ;  it  seems  to  depend  for  its  happiness 


200  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

on  being  comprehended,  but  no  fellow-creature  can 
comprehend  it ;  it  knows  its  own  bitterness,  which  no 
one  else  can  know ;  it  broods  over  its  own  joys,  but 
no  one  can  share  them.  Then  it  makes  discovery  of 
the  truth  that  God  can  give  it  what  it  requires,  that 
He  fully  understands,  that  He  can  enter  into  all  these 
silent  thoughts  and  unobserved  emotions,  that  He  can 
offer  an  unfailing  sympathy  and  a  faultless  compre- 
hension. In  its  need  the  lonely  heart  takes  refuge  in 
Him,  and  makes  no  murmur  that  His  coming  requires 
the  searching,  the  chastisement,  and  the  purging  of 
sin. 

No  human  being  needs  to  be  misunderstood  or  to 
suffer  under  the  sense  of  misunderstanding.  Let  him 
turn  at  once  to  God.  It  is  childish  to  murmur  against 
our  fellows,  who  only  treat  us  as  we  treat  them ;  they 
do  not  comprehend  us,  neither  do  we  comprehend 
them ;  they  do  not  give  us,  as  we  think,  our  due, 
neither  do  we  give  them  theirs ;  but  God  comprehends 
both  them  and  us,  and  He  gives  to  them  and  to  us 
accurately  what  is  due. 

No  human  being  is  compelled  to  bear  his  bitterness 
alone,  for  though  he  cannot  tell  it  or  explain  to  his 
fellows,  he  can  tell  it,  and  he  need  not  explain  it,  to 
God.  Is  the  bitterness  an  outcome  of  sin,  as  most  of 
our  bitterness  is  ?  Is  it  the  bitterness  of  a  wounded 
egotism,  or  of  a  remorseful  conscience,  or  of  spiritual 
despondency  ?  Or  is  it  the  bitterness  which  springs 
from  the  cravings  of  an  unsatisfied  heart,  the  thirst  for 
self-completeness,  the  longing  for  a  perfect  love  ?  In 
either  case  God  is  perfectly  able  and  willing  to  meet 
the  need.  He  delights  to  turn  His  knowledge  of  our 
nature  to  the  purpose  of  cleansing  and   transforming 


xiv.  lo,  13.]    THE  INJVARD  UNAPPROACHABLE  UEE.    201 

the  sinful  heart:  "  By  His  knowledge  shall  My  righteous 
servant  justify  many,"  He  says.  I  le  is  ready,  too,  to 
slied  abroad  His  own  rich  love  in  our  hearts,  leaving 
no  room  for  the  hankering  desire,  and  creating  the 
peace  of  a  complete  fulfilment. 

No  human  being  need  imagine  that  he  is  unappre- 
ciated ;  his  fellow-men  may  not  want  him,  but  God 
does.  "The  Lord  hath  made  every  thing  for  His  own 
purpose,  yea,  even  the  wicked  for  the  day  of  evil."  ^  He 
apprehends  all  that  is  good  in  your  heart,  and  will  not 
suffer  a  grain  of  pure  gold  to  be  lost ;  while  He  sees  too 
every  particle  of  evil,  and  will  not  suffer  it  to  continue. 
He  knows  where  the  will  is  set  upon  righteousness, 
where  the  desire  is  turned  towards  Him,  and  will 
delicately  encourage  the  will,  and  bountifully  satisfy 
the  desire.  He  sees,  too,  when  the  will  is  hardened 
against  Him,  and  the  desire  is  set  upon  iniquity,  and 
He  is  mercifully  resolved  to  visit  the  corrupt  will  and 
the  evil  desire  with  "eternal  destruction  from  the  face  of 
the  Lord,  and  from  the  glory  of  His  might," — mercifully, 
I  say,  for  no  torture  could  be  more  terrible  and  hope- 
less than  for  the  evil  man  to  live  eternally  in  the 
presence  of  God. 

Finally,  no  human  being  need  be  without  a  sharer 
of  his  joy  :  and  that  is  a  great  consideration,  for  joy 
unshared    quickly   dies,    and    is    from    the    beginning 

'  Prov.  xvi.  4.  This  strange  sajang,  interpreted  in  the  hght  of  the 
Gospel,  cannot  mean  that  wicked  people  are  actually  made  in  order 
to  exhibit  the  righteousness  and  judgment  of  God  in  their  punish- 
ment on  the  day  of  wrath,  though  that  was  probably  the  thought  in  the 
mind  of  the  writer.  But  it  reminds  us  of  the  truth  that  every  human 
being  is  a  direct  concern  of  the  Maker,  who  has  His  own  wise 
purpose  to  fulfil  in  even  the  most  inconsiderable  and  apparently 
abortive  life. 


^HE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 


haunted  by  a  vague  sense  of  a  shadow  that  is  falling 
upon  it.  In  the  heart  of  the  Eternal  dwells  eternal  joy. 
All  loveliness,  all  sweetness,  all  goodness,  all  truth, 
are  the  objects  of  His  happy  contemplation ;  therefore 
every  really  joyful  heart  has  an  immediate  sympathiser 
in  God  ;  and  prayer  is  quite  as  much  the  means  by 
which  we  share  our  gladness  as  the  vehicle  by  which 
we  convey  our  sorrows  to  the  Divine  heart.  Is  it  not 
beautiful  to  think  of  all  those  timid  and  retiring  human 
spirits,  who  cherish  sweet  ecstasies,  and  feel  glowing 
exultations,  and  are  frequently  caught  up  in  heavenly 
raptures,  which  the  shy  countenance  and  stammering 
tongue  never  could  record  ?  They  feel  their  hearts 
melt  with  joy  in  the  prospect  of  broad  skies  and  sunlit 
fields,  in  the  sound  of  morning  birds  and  rushing 
streams ;  they  hear  great  choirs  of  happy  spirits 
chanting  perpetually  in  heaven  and  in  earth,  and  on 
every  side  of  their  obscure  way  open  vistas  of  inspired 
vision.  No  stranger  meddles  with  their  joy,  or  even 
knows  of  it.  God  is  not  a  stranger ;  to  Him  they  tell 
it  all,  with  Him  they  share  it,  and  their  joy  is  part  of 
the  joy  of  the  Eternal. 


XV. 

A   PASSIONATE  DISPOSITION. 

"  A  soft  answer  turneth  away  wrath  :  but  a  grievous  word  stirrcth 
up  anger."  In  the  LXX.  there  is  another  clause  inserted  at  the  be- 
ginning. '0/37rj  dTrdWvcTL  Kai  (ppovi/xovs,  diroKpLais  5^  viroiriirTOvaa 
dTTOffrpe'^ei  dv/x6v,  \670s  dt  \v7rrjpbs  iyeipcL  dpyds.^' — Prov.  xv.  I. 

"A  meek  tongue  is  a  tree  of  hfe :  but  pervcrseness  therein  is  a 
breaking  of  the  spirit." — Prov.  xv.  4. 

"  A  wrathful  man  stirreth  up  contention :  but  he  that  is  slow  to 
anger  appcaseth  strife." — Prov.  xv.  18. 

BAD  temper  causes  more  suffering  than  the  modified 
severity  with  which  we  judge  it  would  imply.  It 
is  in  a  home  what  toothache  is  in  the  body  :  the  pain  is 
insufferable  and  yet  it  is  not  treated  as  serious.  A 
passionate  man  or  woman  spreads  a  pervading  sense  of 
irritation  in  the  house  or  in  the  workshop,  and  all  the 
other  occupants  of  the  place  are  as  if  they  dwelt  in  a 
country  subject  to  earthquakes  ;  life  for  them  is  divided 
between  anxiety  to  avoid  the  explosion  and  a  painful 
effort  to  repair  its  devastations.  We  are  not  severe 
enough  on  these  faults  of  temper  in  ourselves  or  in  others; 
we  are  too  prone  to  excuse  them  on  the  ground  of  tem- 
perament, as  if  we  were  no  more  responsible  for  out- 
breaks of  passion  than  for  the  colour  of  our  hair  or  the 
tone  of  our  complexion.  It  will,  therefore,  do  us  good 
to  see  what  the  Wise  Man  says  on  the  subject. 

First  of  all,  we  have  several  proverbs  which  remind 


204  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

US  how  irritating  an  angry  disposition  is  :  it  is  the  con- 
stant occasion  of  strife ;  it  grows  itself  by  each  fresh 
annoyance  that  it  gives,  so  that  it  quickly  becomes  un- 
governable, and  thus  "  the  wrathful  man  aboundeth  in 
transgression."  ^  A  fierce  ungovernable  temper  will  set 
a  whole  city  in  a  flame,^  and  lead  to  disasters  of  national 
and  even  world-wide  extent.  However  peaceful  and 
happy  a  community  may  be,  if  a  choleric  man  enters 
it,  signs  of  combustion  will  soon  begin  to  appear. 
There  are  always  hot  embers  which  wise  men  are 
earnestly  trying  to  damp  down,-  there  are  trivial 
irritations,  petty  annoyances,  incipient  envies,  which 
are  only  too  easily  inflamed  ;  the  cool  spirit  and  the 
conciliatory  word  and  the  ingenious  diversion  of 
thought  will  keep  the  embers  choked  until  the  heat 
dies  away,  but  '^  as  coals  to  hot  embers,  and  wood  to 
fire,  so  is  a  contentious  man  to  inflame  strife."  ^ 

We  may  well  be  cautioned  to  give  such  an  inflam- 
matory character  a  wide  berth  ;  ''  Make  no  friendship 
with  a  man  that  is  given  to  anger ;  and  with  a  wrathful 
man  thou  shalt  not  go  :  lest  thou  learn  his  ways,  and 
get  a  snare  to  thy  soul."  ^  Even  a  sweet  temper  may 
be  chafed  into  peevishness  by  constant  irritations ; 
with  passionate  people  the  gentlest  become  passionate 
in  self-defence.  When  this  unbridled,  ill-disciplined 
nature  approaches,  we  should  avoid  it  as  if  it  were  a 
bear  robbed  of  her  whelps,  for  such  is  this  fool  in  his 
folly.^ 

This  leads  us  to  notice  that  anger  and  folly  are  very 
closely  allied.      The   passionate    nature    is   constantly 

'  Prov.  xxix.  22.  ^  Prov.  xxvi.  21.  ^  Prov.  xvii,  12. 

^  Prov.  xxix.  8.  *  Prov.  xxii  24. 


XV.  1,4,  I S.]       A   PASSIONATE  DISPOSITION.  205 

betrayed  into  actions  which  sober  wisdom  must  con- 
demn,— '^  He  that  is  soon  angry  will  deal  foolishly.  .  .  . 
He  that  is  slow  to  anger  is  of  great  understanding :  but 
he  that  is  hasty  of  spirit  exalteth  folly."  ^  Any  one 
with  a  grain  of  sense  will  put  a  check  upon  his  rising 
temper ;  his  discretion  makes  him  slow  to  anger,  and 
he  never  feels  to  have  won  such  true  glory  as  when 
he  bridles  his  wrath  and  passes  by  an  offence  without 
a  sign  of  annoyance  or  resentment."  You  may  almost 
be  sure  that  a  man  is  wise  if  you  find  that  he  has  a 
cool  spirit.^  When  you  see  a  person  who  cautiously 
avoids  the  ground  where  strife  is  apt  to  be  excited, 
and  builds  his  house  on  a  spot  where  contention  is 
impossible,  you  instinctively  respect  him,  for  you 
know  it  betokens  wisdom ;  but  when  you  see  a  man 
always  getting  involved  in  quarrels,  always  showing 
his  teeth,*  you  rightly  conclude  that  he  is  a  fool.^  **  A 
fool  uttereth  all  his  anger :  but  a  wise  man  keepeth  it 
back  and  stilleth  it."  ^     If  we  are  naturally  irritable  or 

'  Prov.  xiv.  17,  29. 

*  Prov.  xix.  II.  "When  Lanfranc  was  prior  of  Bee  he  ventured  to 
oppose  Duke  William's  Flemish  marriage.  In  a  wild  burst  of  wrath 
William  bade  his  men  burn  a  manor  house  of  Bee  and  drive  out  Lan- 
franc from  Norman  ground.  He  came  to  see  the  work  done,  and  found 
Lanfranc  hobbling  on  a  lame  horse  towards  the  frontier.  He  angrily 
bad  him  hasten,  and  Lanfranc  replied  by  a  cool  promise  to  go  faster  out 
of  his  land  if  he  would  give  him  abetter  steed.  'You  are  the  first 
criminal  that  ever  asked  gifts  from  his  judge,'  retorted  William,  but 
a  burst  of  laughter  told  that  the  wrath  had  gone,  and  William  and 
Lanfranc  drew  together  again." — Green's  Conquest  of  England,  p.  551. 

*  Prov.  xvii.  27. 

*  This  word  ]!b\T\^^  which  only  occurs  here  (xx.  3)  and  in  xvii.  14 
and  xviii.  i,  would  seem  from  the  cognate  root  in  Arab,  and  Syr.  to 
mean  "setting  the  teeth  together,"  which  is  a  much  more  vivid  and 
specific  idea  than  quarrelling. 

*  Prov.  xx.  3.  *  Prov.  xxix.  ii. 


2o6  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

splenetic,  wisdom  will  incline  us  to  avoid  occasions 
which  excite  us,  and  to  keep  a  watchful  guard  over  our 
spirits  where  the  occasions  are  inevitable.  If  we 
neglect  such  precautions  we  shall  justly  be  counted 
fools,  and  the  consequent  outbreaks  of  passion  will 
lead  us  into  fresh  exhibitions  of  folly,  and  more  com- 
pletely justify  the  harsh  judgment  which  has  been 
passed  upon  us. 

But  not  the  least  sign  of  the  folly  which  is  inherent 
in  passion  is  the  shocking  effect  which  it  has  upon 
those  who  give  way  to  it.  As  the  LXX.  version  says 
at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter,  ''  Anger  destroys  even 
the  wise."  And  one  whose  spirit  is  without  restraint 
is  forcibly  compared  to  a  city  that  is  broken  down  and 
has  no  wall ;  ^  every  foe  can  go  up  and  possess  it, 
every  thoughtless  child  can  fling  a  firebrand  into  it ; 
the  barest  word,  hint,  smirk,  shrug  of  the  shoulders, 
any  unintentional  slight  or  reflection,  nay,  even  silence 
itself,  will  suddenly  set  the  powder-train  on  fire,  and 
the  consequent  explosion  will  be  more  destructive  to 
the  city  itself  than  to  those  who  are  outside.  ''A  man 
of  great  wrath  shall  bear  the  penalty,"  and,  poor  fellow, 
perhaps  it  is  best  that  he  should,  for  if  you  deliver 
him  from  the  consequence  of  his  passion,  that  will  only 
encourage  him  in  further  outbreaks,  and  so  he  will 
become  worse,  and  your  deliverance  will  be  an  endless 
task.2 

Our  great  King  Henry  II.  was  subject  to  fits  of 
uncontrollable  passion,  in  which  he  would  roll  on  the 
floor  and  bite  the  dust,  impotent  with  rage  ;  and  all 
the  sorrows  of  his  life  and  reign,  falling  heavily  upon 

*  Prov.  XXV.  28.  ^  Prov.  xix,  19. 


XV.  1,4,  I S]       A   PASSIONATE  DISPOSITION.  207 

him  in  his  later  years,  were  occasioned  by  this  unhappy 
temper.  At  the  present  time  we  are  told  that  the 
Chinese  frequently  indulge  in  fits  of  passionate  wrath, 
which  react  terribly  upon  their  health  and  make  them 
phj'sically  ill.  The  wrathful  man  does  mischief  to 
many,  but  his  wrath  is  like  an  old  arquebus,  which, 
when  it  is  fired,  hurts  the  bearer  almost  as  much  as 
the  enemy.  It  may  fail  to  hit  the  mark,  but  it  is  sure 
to  knock  down  the  marksman. 

Probably  here  the  plea  will  be  urged  that  we  cannot 
help  our  temper,  and  it  may  be  said,  the  suffering  which 
it  brings  upon  us  is  the  best  proof  that  it  is  an  infirmity 
rather  than  a  vice.  Now  this  excuse  cannot  be  allowed 
to  pass ;  a  certain  good  bishop  on  one  occasion  hearing 
it  urged,  in  extenuation  of  a  man's  conduct,  that  he  had 
such  an  unfortunate  temper,  exclaimed,  "  Temper,  why 
temper  is  nine-tenths  of  Christianity  !  "  If  we  are  not 
to  be  blamed  for  bad  temper,  then  there  is  no  fault  or 
defect  or  vice  which  we  cannot  shift  off  our  own 
shoulders  and  lay  to  the  charge  of  our  constitution. 
But  our  constitution  is  no  excuse  for  sin  ;  the  most 
that  can  be  urged  is  that  if  we  are  constitutionally 
inclined  to  any  particular  sin  we  must  seek  for  a  special 
strength  to  fortify  us  against  it.  If  in  building  a  city 
an  ancient  engineer  had  one  side  more  exposed  than 
the  rest,  protected  by  no  natural  escarpments  of  rock 
or  bends  of  the  river,  there  he  would  concentrate  all 
his  skill  to  make  the  wall  impregnable.  If  you  find 
that  one  of  your  bodily  organs  betrays  a  tendency  to 
disease,  you  are  careful  to  avoid  the  exposure,  or  the 
strain,  or  the  derangement,  which  would  unfavourably 
affect  it.  If  your  lungs  are  delicate  you  shun  fogs  and 
chills ;  if  your  heart  is  feeble  you  are  careful  to  avoid 


208  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

any  sudden  excitement ;  if  your  eyes  are  weak  you 
notice  very  particularly  by  what  light  you  read,  and 
are  sensitive  to  the  least  weariness  in  those  delicate 
instruments.  In  the  same  way,  if  your  special  infirmity 
lies  in  the  temper ;  if  you  are  easily  provoked,  or  apt 
to  fall  into  sullenness ;  if  a  sudden  annoyance  excites 
an  uncontrollable  passion  in  your  mind,  or  drops  into 
your  heart  seeds  of  bitterness  which  rapidly  grow  and 
become  ineradicable ;  you  have  your  work  cut  out  for 
you ;  your  daily  task  will  be  to  avoid  the  things  which 
produce  such  ill  effects,  and  to  cultivate  the  habits 
which  lessen  the  virulent  action  of  these  irritant  poisons. 
Few  of  us  realize  how  wonderfully  our  constitution  is 
subjected  to  our  own  control,  and  how  much  we  our- 
selves have  to  do  with  the  making  of  it. 

You  know,  we  will  suppose,  that  you  are  easily 
entangled  in  a  quarrel ;  you  must  then  prepare  your- 
self before  you  go  out  into  the  business  of  the  day, — 
^'  Go  not  forth  hastily  to  strive,  lest  .  .  .  What  wilt 
thou  do  in  the  end,  when  thy  neighbour  hath  put  thee 
to  shame  ?  "  ^  This  realization  of  what  will  probably 
result  from  your  hasty  temper  will  act  as  a  check  upon 
it,  and  you  will  be  inclined,  if  you  have  any  ground 
of  offence  against  your  neighbour,  to  go  quietly  and 
debate  it  with  him  alone."^  Or  if  the  contention  has 
been  sprung  upon  you  unawares,  take  care  that  over 
the  floodgates  of  your  passion  has  been  written  this 
wholesome  warning,  "  The  beginning  of  strife  is  as 
when  one  letteth  out  water  :  therefore  leave  off  con- 
tention, before  there  be  any  setting  of  the  teeth."  ^ 
Knowing  your  danger  you  must  summon  to  your  aid 

'  Prov.  XXV  8.       -  Prov.  xxv.  9.       ^  Prov.  xvii,  14.  See  note  \  p.  205. 


XV.  1,4,  I S.]       A   PASSIONATE  DISPOSITION.  209 


all  the  heroism  of  your  nature,  and  remember  that  this 
is  the  time  and  the  occasion  to  exercise  it.  Others 
have  to  win  their  spurs  on  the  battlefield  ;  this  is  your 
battlefield,  and  here  your  spurs  are  to  be  won.  Others 
have  to  win  kingdoms  or  capture  cities  ;  here  is  the 
kingdom  where  you  are  to  reign,  this  is  the  city  which 
you  are  to  take.  "  He  that  is  slow  to  anger  is  better 
than  the  mighty  ;  and  he  that  rulcth  his  spirit  than  he 
that  taketh  a  city."  ^ 

Get  at  some  grand  root  principle  like  this  :  "  Hatred 
stirreth  up  strifes:  but  love  covereth  all  transgressions."^ 
Ah,  yes,  if  you  are  disposed  to  be  angry  with  men,  fill 
your  spirit  with  love  to  them ;  that  will  soothe  your 
irritable  nerves,  and  will  flow  over  their  transgressions 
so  that  they  cease  to  annoy  you  because  you  cease  to 
see  them  ;  w^hen  we  are  fervent  in  love  to  one  another, 
the  love  covers  a  multitude  of  sins.^  Where  love  comes 
into  the  soul  w^e  are  more  anxious  to  convert  those  who 
offend  us  than  to  be  angry  with  them.^  Love  saves  us 
from  the  self-vaunting  which  exposes  us  to  the  annoy- 
ances, and  provokes  the  attacks,  of  the  malignant ; '"  and 
it  enables  us  to  bear  all  things,  almost  without  a  ruffle 
or  a  perturbation.  Strange  to  say,  passionate  tempera- 
ments are  often  very  affectionate ;  let  them  cultivate 
the  love  in  themselves,  and  it  will  be  the  destruction 
of  the  evil  temper.  And  where  the  evil  passion  comes 
from  a  true  moroseness,  then  the  fruit  can  only  be 
destroyed  with  the  root,  and  the  root  can  only  be 
destroyed  when  love  is  shed  abroad  in  the  heart. 

Or  possibl}^  3^our  anger  is  not  of  the  passionate  kind, 

'  Prov.  xvi.  32.  '  I  Peter  iv.  8.  ^  i  Cor.  xiii.  4. 

*  Prov.  X.  12.  *  James  v.  20. 

14 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


but  rather  stern  and  resentful,  arising  from  an  exag- 
gerated sense  of  self-importance.  A  meek  ^  heart  is  not 
wrathful,  and  it  is  the  life  of  the  flesh ;  but  where 
meekness  fails,  envy  enters  as  rottenness  of  the  bones, 
and  with  envy,  hatred  and  malice.^  A  meek^  tongue 
not  only  checks  wrath  in  itself,  but  soothes  it  in  others  ; 
it  is  a  tree  of  life,  just  as  perverseness  in  it  is  a  break- 
ing of  the  spirit.^  If  you  thought  less  of  yourself,  you 
would  not  so  frequently  feel  your  dignity  offended ;  you 
would  not  require  this  weapon  of  wrath  always  at  hand 
to  leap  forth  and  avenge  your  outraged  pride.  From 
the  meek  heart  vengeance  dies  away.  "  Say  not  thou, 
I  will  recompense  evil :  wait  on  the  Lord,  and  He  shall 
save  thee."^  You  are  sudden  and  quick  in  quarrel, 
because  you  think  of  yourself  more  highly  than  you 
ought  to  think ;  and  because  others  do  not  share  your 
opinion  of  yourself,  you  must  summon  all  your  artillery 
of  wrath  to  make  them  bend  the  stubborn  knee  and 
offer  you  the  due  tribute  of  deference  or  admiration. 
For  if  bad  temper  comes  often  from  constitutional 
infirmities  which  must  be  carefully  watched  and  con- 
trolled, it  comes  just  as  frequently  from  that  subtle 
enemy  of  our  souls,  Pride. 

But  now  we  come  to  the  important  question,  How 
are  our  evil  passions  to  be  cured  ?  And  we  must 
frankly  admit  that  our  book  has  no  suggestions  to 
offer.  Its  tendency  is  to  regard  our  disposition  as 
fixed,  our  temperament  as   irreversible,  our  character 

*  This  meaning  of  t<B*1Dj  as  was  observed  in  Lecture  XIL,  p.  172, 
seems  to  yield  the  best  sense  in  these  two  passages  (cp.  xii.  18;  xiii. 
17),  as  in  Eccl.  x.  4,  "gentleness  allayeth  great  offences,"  which  is  a 
good  commentary  on  our  text. 

2  Prov.  xiv.  30.  ^  Prov.  xv.  4.  *  Prov.  xx.  22. 


XV.  1,4,  I S.]       A   PASSIONATE  DISPOSITION.  211 

as  unchangeable.  It  points  out  with  crystalUne  clear- 
ness the  mischief  of  wrath  and  the  merit  of  meekness, 
but  it  never  so  much  as  entertains  the  possibility  that 
the  wrathful  man  might  become  meek,  the  passionate 
man  patient  and  gentle. 

We  have  in  our  analysis  of  the  evil  observed  that 
in  order  to  avoid  it  we  must  be  vigilant  to  mark  and 
control  the  first  risings  of  passion  ;  we  have  noted  too 
that  if  we  were  truly  loving,  anger  would  die  away, 
and  if  we  were  truly  humble,  the  resentments  which 
stir  our  anger  would  have  nothing  to  feed  upon.  But 
the  main  difficulty  is,  how  are  we  to  become  watchful, 
since  it  is  the  special  characteristic  of  a  hasty  temper 
that  it  overpowers  our  sentinels  before  it  assaults  the 
city  ?  And  how  are  we  to  become  loving  and  humble  ? 
It  is  only  throwing  the  difficulty  back  a  step  or  two, 
and  showing  us  how  insuperable  it  is,  to  say  that  we 
must  become  good  in  one  direction  in  order  to  escape 
the  evil  which  lies  in  another  direction.  It  does  not 
help  the  Ethiopian  to  become  a  European  to  tell  him 
that  Europeans  have  white  skins  instead  of  black  ;  nor 
can  a  leopard  change  his  kind  because  he  learns  that 
his  spots  are  his  distinctive  mark. 

There  must  be  a  deeper  message  than  that  of  the 
Proverbs  to  solve  this  practical  difficulty  ;  though  we 
may  well  feel  that  the  book  is  invaluable  in  setting 
before  us  how  greatly  we  need  a  deeper  message.  No 
infirmity  of  human  nature  proves  more  forcibly  than 
the  one  with  which  we  are  dealing  that  **  some  thing 
out  of  Nature"  must  come  in  if  a  change  is  to  be 
effected.  "  We  must  be  born  again ; "  it  is  only  a 
regenerate  heart  which  will  have  the  impulse  and  the 
ability  to  watch  against   the  eruption  of  a  passionate 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


disposition.  It  is  only  a  regenerate  heart  which  can 
love  in  such  a  way  that  irritations  cease  to  fret,  or 
that  can  be  humble  enough  to  escape  the  exasperations 
of  wounded  pride.  Many  of  us  think  lightly  of  these 
particular  faults,  and  scarcely  designate  ill-temper  a 
sin  at  all ;  but  however  we  may  regard  it,  the  wrathful 
disposition  requires  nothing  less  than  Christ,  and  Him 
crucified,  to  cure  it,  and  God  deemed  it  worth  while  to 
send  His  only-begotten  Son  in  order  to  effect  the  cure. 
In  Christ  Jesus  are  forces,  moral  and  spiritual,  strong 
enough  to  control  the  most  uncontrollable  rage  and  to 
soothe  the  most  irritable  temper ;  and  as  we  can  point 
to  no  other  power  which  is  sufficient  for  such  a  change, 
so  few  things  manifest  so  strikingly  the  blessed  pre- 
sence of  Christ  in  the  heart  as  the  softened  and  gentle 
temper,  the  removal  of  all  those  explosive  elements 
which  before  He  entered  were  constantly  causing 
trouble  and  suffering  and  alarm. 

Here  is  an  example  taken  from  a  country  where  the 
knowledge  of  the  Gospel  is  comparatively  recent.  A 
Japanese  gentleman  living  at  Fujioka,  who  was  much 
addicted  to  the  use  of  sake,  a  strong  intoxicant,  which 
produced  the  worst  results  on  his  temper,  was  led 
through  reading  a  tract  on  the  subject  to  renounce  the 
evil  habit,  and  to  accept  Jesus  Christ  as  his  Saviour. 
In  proportion  as  the  Divine  power  mastered  him  he 
became  a  new  creature.  One  day  his  wife  had  been 
careless  about  some  silkworms'  eggs,  which  had  become 
partially  destroyed,  and  she  trembled  with  fear  that 
he  would  become  enraged  when  he  discovered  it,  and 
punish  her  severely,  as  he  had  done  before.  But  to  her 
great  astonishment,  when  he  found  out  what  had  hap- 
pened he  remained  perfectly  calm,  and  then  said,   ''We 


XV.  1,4.  iS.]       A   PASSIONATE  DISPOSITION.  213 


can  distribute  them  among  our  poor  neighbours,  and 
so  they  will  have  a  larger  crop.  Thus  it  will  perhaps 
be  better  than  if  we  had  sold  them  and  taken  all  the 
money  ourselves."  His  wife  was  so  impressed  with 
this  change  of  character  that  she  said,  "  This  is  the 
result  of  Christianity ;  I  want  to  become  a  Christian 
too."  She  sought  and  found,  and  her  whole  family 
sought  and  found.  And  not  only  so,  but  the  neigh- 
bours were  struck  by  this  "  living  epistle,"  and  shortly 
afterwards  when  the  missionary  went  to  Fujioka 
there  were  ten  persons  awaiting  baptism.  At  the 
present  time  a  good  Christian  Church  is  growing  up 
in  the  place.^ 

Where  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  reigns  evil  passions 
subside  and  die  away.  "  Learn  of  Me :  for  I  am  meek 
and  lowly  of  heart."  "  Blessed  are  the  meek  :  for  they 
shall  inherit  the  earth."  One  who  is  born  again,  one 
whose  life  is  hidden  with  Christ  in  God,  is  necessarily 
meek,  meek  as  the  Lord  Himself :  not,  as  we  well  know, 
devoid  of  noble  anger  or  fiery  indignation,  for  indeed 
it  is  only  the  meek  heart  from  which  all  personal  pre- 
tensions have  been  eradicated,  and  to  which  no  personal 
feeling  can  be  attributed,  that  is  able  to  pour  out  vials 
of  wrath,  undeterred  and  unquenchable,  upon  all  that 
is  base  and  mean,  impure  and  false,  corrupt  and  cruel ; 
but  meek  in  this  beautiful  sense,  that  it  never  takes 
offence,  never  suspects  evil,  never  resents  any  wrong 
except  moral  wrong  that  is  done  to  others,  or  spiritual 
wrong  done  to  God.  All  the  tinder  on  which  angry 
passions  feed  has  been  removed  by  the  Cross  of  Christ, 
and  therefore  the  only  wrath  which  can  be  entertained 

'  Missionary  Review  of  the  IVor/d,  Feb.  1SS9,  p.  143. 


214  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

is  such  wrath  as  God  feels, — the  deep  intense  glow  of 
consuming  indignation  against  sin. 

For  our  evil  tempers,  then,  our  passion,  our  wrath, 
our  sullen  pride,  our  fretful  irritability,  our  outbreaks 
of  sarcasm,  our  malignant  sneers,  there  is  only  one 
possible  cure ;  we  must  bring  the  heart,  out  of  which 
all  the  evil  comes,  to  Jesus  Christ,  that  He  may  create 
it  anew;  we  must  accept  our  failures  as  evidence  of 
an  imperfect  surrender,  and  come  afresh  with  a  more 
insistent  cry,  and  a  more  perfect  faith,  that  He  may 
reign  in  our  hearts  as  undisputed  Lord,  checking,  sub- 
duing, warring  down,  every  evil  motion  there. 


XVI. 

A   JUST  BALANCE. 

"  A  just  balance  and  scales,  are  the  Lord's  :  all  the  weights  of 
the  bag  are  His  work." — Prov.  xvi.  Ii. 

*'  A  false  balance  is  an  abomination  to  the  Lord  :  but  a  just  weight 
is  His  delight." — Prov.  xi.  I. 

"  Divers  weights,  and  divers  measures,  both  of  them  alike  are  an 
abomination  to  the  Lord." — Prov.  xx.  io. 

"  Divers  weights  are  an  abomination  to  the  Lord  ;  and  a  false 
balance  is  not  good." — Prov.  xx.  23. 

THE  sixteenth  chapter  opens — and  we  may  annex 
to  it  the  last  verse  of  chap.  xv. — with  a  series  of 
sayings  which  are  grouped  together  on  the  principle 
that  the  name  of  the  Lord  occurs  in  each.  There  is 
no  obvious  connection  between  the  successive  verses, 
and  some  of  them  have  been  already  touched  on  in 
previous  lectures,  but  it  will  be  worth  while  to  glance 
at  the  series  as  a  whole. 

The  Lord's  presence  must  be  recognised  and  rever- 
enced before  we  can  make  any  progress  in  wisdom,  and 
in  His  presence  we  must  humble  ourselves  before  we 
can  expect  any  honour.^  We  are  entirely  dependent 
upon  Him  ;  although  our  hearts  may  form  plans,  we 
cannot  utter  anything  aright  unless  He  controls  our 
tongue."     However  self-satisfied  we  may  be  with  our 


Prov.  XV.  33.  *^Prov.  xvi.  i. 


2i6  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

own  ways,  however  convinced  we  may  be  of  our  own 
innocence,  He  weighs  our  spirit,  and  will  often  find  a 
guilt  which  our  conceit  ignores,  an  impurity  which  our 
vanity  would  hide.^     We  should  do  well,  therefore,  to 
commit  all  our  works  to  Him,  in  order  that  He  may 
revise   and  correct   our  purposes   and   establish   those 
which  are  good.^     We  cannot  think  too  much  of  His 
all-inclusive  wisdom   and   knowledge ;    everything  lies 
in  His  hands  and  is  designed  for  His  ends ;  even  the 
wicked  who   rebel   against   Him — men    like   Pharaoh, 
Nebuchadnezzar,  Judas,  Elymas — must  in  their  inevit- 
.  able  punishment  glorify  His  righteousness  and  truth.^ 
For  punishment  is  absolutely  sure  ;  the  proud  are  an 
abomination  to  Him,  and  though  they  combine  to  oppose 
His  will  and  to  escape  the  penalty,  it  will  be  quite  in 
vain."^     On  the  other  hand,  where  He  sees  mercy  and 
truth  He  will  purge  iniquity,  and  when  men  fear  Him 
they  will  depart  from  evil.^     When  His  smile  is  upon 
them  and  He  approves  their  ways.  He  will  make  their 
path  plain,  pacifying  their  enemies,  and  making  their 
hearts   glad.^      He   will    guide    them,    even   directing 
their  steps,  in  such  a  manner  that  their  own  imperfect 
counsels  shall  turn  to  a  happy  and  successful  issue."^ 
^' Whoso  trusteth  in  the  Lord,  happy  is  he."^     Indeed 
w^e  cannot  exaggerate  the  minute  observation   of  the 
Lord  ;  no  detail  escapes  His  e3'e,  no  event  is  beyond 
His   control ;    even   what   is    generally   called    Chance 
is  but  another  name  for  His  unmarked  and  unknown 

*  Prov.  xvi.  2.  ^  Prov,  xvi.  4.    5^^  note,  p.  201.      ^  Prov.  xvi.  6. 

2  Prov.  xvi.  3.  ^  Prov.  xvi.  5.  ^  Prov.  xvi.  7. 

'  Prov.  xvi.  9.     Cf.  Prov.  xix,  21  :  "There  are  many  devices  in  a 
man's  heart ;  but  the  counsel  of  the  Lord,  that  shall  stand." 
^  Prov.  xvi.  20. 


xvi,  II ;  xi.  I ;  xx.  lO,  23.]     A  JUST  BAT.ANCE.  217 


direction  ;  the  very  lot — that  lot  which  settles  conten- 
tions and  separates  the  strong^ — cast  into  the  lap 
is  actually  disposed  by  Ilini;-  much  more,  therefore, 
are  the  deliberate  transactions  of  commerce — those 
subtle"  bonds  of  the  cash  nexus  which  twine  man 
to  man  and  nation  to  nation — under  His  constant  in- 
spection and  a  subject  of  His  most  interested  concern, 
—  "a  just  balance  and  scales  are  the  Lord's:  all  the 
weights  of  the  bag  are  His  work," 

It  is,  then,  as  part  of  the  Lord's  watchful  activity 
and  direct,  detailed  connection  with  all  the  affairs  of 
human  life,  that  He  is  interested  in  our  business  and 
trade.  We  may  notice  at  once  that  this  is  very  cha- 
racteristic of  the  Old  Testament  religion.  In  the 
Deuteronomic  Law  it  was  written  :  "  Thou  shalt  not 
have  in  thy  bag  divers  weights,  a  great  and  a  small. 
Thou  shalt  not  have  in  thine  house  divers  measures, 
a  great  and  a  small.  A  perfect  and  a  just  weight  shalt 
thou  have ;  a  perfect  and  just  measure  shalt  thou  have  : 
that  thy  days  may  be  long  upon  the  land  which  the 
Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee.  For  all  that  do  such  things, 
even  all  that  do  unrighteously,  are  an  abomination  unto 
the  Lord  thy  God."  ^     Again,  in  the  Levitical  Law  we 

'  Prov.  xviii,  18.  John  Paton,  the  missionary  to  the  New  Hebrides, 
uncertain  whether  to  go  back  to  Scotland  and  plead  for  more  mis- 
sionaries, and  receiving  no  light  from  human  counsel,  says,  "After 
many  prayers  and  wrestlings  and  tears,  I  went  alone  before  the  Lord, 
and  on  my  knees  cast  lots  with  a  solemn  appeal  to  God,  and  the 
answer  came  *  Go  home.'  In  my  heart  I  believe  that  .  .  ,  the  Lord 
condescended  to  decide  for  me  the  path  of  duty,  otherwise  unknown  ; 
and  I  believe  it  the  more  truly  now,  in  view  of  the  aftercome  of  thirty 
years  of  service  to  Christ  that  flowed  out  of  the  steps  then  deliberately 
and  devoutly  taken."'  Sec  the  Aiiiobiography,  Second  Part  (Hodder 
and  Stoughton,  1889). 

'^  Prov.  xvi.  33.  =*  Deut.  xxv,  1 3- 1 6. 


2i8  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

find :  "  Ye  shall  do  no  unrighteousness  in  judgment, 
in  meteyard,  in  weight,  or  in  measure.  Just  balances, 
just  weights,  a  just  ephah,  and  a  just  hin,  shall  ye  have  : 
I  am  the  Lord  your  God,  which  brought  you  out  of  the 
land  of  Egypt."  ^ 

The  Israelite  was  encouraged  to  think  that  all  the 
work  in  which  he  engaged  was  ordained  by,  and  there- 
fore under  the  observation  of,  his  God.  *'  Hate  not 
laborious  work,  neither  husbandry  which  the  Most 
High  hath  ordained,"  says  Ecclesiasticus.^  And  there 
is  a  striking  passage  in  Isaiah  where  the  operations  of 
agriculture  are  described  in  detail,  and  all  are  attributed 
to  God,  who  instructs  the  husbandman  aright  and  teaches 
him.  It  all  comes  from  the  "  Lord  of  hosts,  which  is 
wonderful  in  counsel,  and  excellent  in  wisdom."  ^ 

But  at  present  we  are  concerned  only  with  trade  as 
a  department  of  industrial  life,  and  especially  with 
the  actual  chaffering  of  exchange,  the  barter  of  goods 
for  goods,  the  weights  and  measures  which  settle  the 
quantities,  and  the  rules  which  must  govern  all  such 
transactions.  We  should  gather  that  the  commercial 
fraud  of  those  primitive  times  took  this  comparatively 
simple  form  :  the  merchant  would  have,  let  us  say, 
a  half  shekel  which  came  a  little  short  of  the  regulation 
weight;  or  he  would  have  a  cubit  measure  (i  ft.  9  in.) 
half  an  inch  under  a  cubit ;  or  he  would  have  a  vessel 
professing  to  hold  a  hin  (i.e.  a  little  more  than  a  gallon), 
but  actually  holding  a  little  less  than  a  gallon ;  or  he 
would  have  a  dry  measure,  marked  as  an  ephah  (i.e.  about 
three  pecks),  but  incapable  of  holding  the  ostensible 
quantity.      In   an  ordinary  way  he   would  use   these 

Lev.  xix.  2)2>}  3^'  ^  Eccles.  vii.  15.  ^  Isa.  xxviii.  23-29, 


xvi.  1 1 ;  xi.  I ;  XX.  lO,  23.]     A  JUST  BALANCE.  219 


inadequate  measures,  and  thus  nibble  a  little  from  every 
article  which  he  sold  to  a  customer.  But  in  the  event 
of  a  purchaser  presenting  himself  who  had  a  fuller 
knowledge  or  might  conceivably  act  as  an  inspector 
and  report  the  fraud  to  the  judge,  there  would  be  a 
just  half  shekel  weight  in  the  bag,  a  full  cubit  rule 
hidden  behind  the  counter,  a  hin  or  an  cpJiaJi  measure 
of  legal  dimensions  within  easy  reach.  You  may  smile 
at  such  primitive  methods  of  deception,  but  it  requires 
many  generations  for  a  civilized  society  to  elaborate 
commercial  fraud  on  the  large  scale. 

Now  passing  at  once  to  our  own  times  and  bringing 
the  truth  of  our  text  to  illuminate  them,  I  should  like 
to  say  a  little  to  people  engaged  in  business,  whether 
as  employers  or  employed,  whether  the  business  is 
wholesale  or  retail.  And  let  me  assure  you  that  I  am 
not  going  to  attempt  a  detailed  examination  and  criti- 
cism of  3^our  business  concerns.  Such  an  attempt 
would  be  grossly  impertinent,  and  might  well  expose 
me,  not  only  to  your  indignation,  but  to  your  ridicule. 
No,  I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  the  part  of  the  preacher 
to  meddle  with  matters  which  he  does  not  understand  ; 
he  only  discredits  his  message  by  affecting  an  omni- 
science which  he  cannot  possibly  possess.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  the  youth  who  has  been  in  a  warehouse  or 
behind  the  counter  for  six  months  already  knows  more 
of  commercial  habits,  of  trade  practices,  of  the  tempta- 
tions and  difficulties  which  practically  press  upon 
people  in  business,  than  I  know,  or  am  likely  to  know 
if  I  live  to  twice  my  present  age.  I  shall  not  therefore 
insult  you  by  attempting  to  point  out  evils  and  expose 
abuses,  to  denounce  particular  frauds,  and  to  hold  up 
any  special  people  or  classes  of  people  to  moral  repro- 


220  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

bation.  My  task  is  quite  different ;  it  is  this  : — I  am 
to  remind  you,  first,  that  God  possesses  that  omni- 
science to  which  I  can  lay  no  claim,  and  therefore  is 
intimately  acquainted  with  all  the  transactions  of  your 
bank,  your  warehouse,  your  office,  your  counter,  your 
w^orkshop ;  and,  secondly,  that  He  regards  with  intense 
satisfaction  all  fair  dealing,  and  with  vindictive  indigna- 
tion every  fraud,  and  trick,  and  lie.  And  on  the 
strength  of  this  I  am  to  ask  you  very  earnestly  to 
review  your  lives  and  your  practices  in  the  light  of 
His  judgment,  and  to  consider  how  you  may  bring 
all  your  doings  in  business  into  conformity  with  His 
will. 

Perhaps  you  will  let  me,  as  a  man  speaking  to  his 
fellow-men,  as  a  Christian,  I  hope,  speaking  to  his 
fellow-Christians,  expand  these  three  points  a  little. 

First.  We  are  all  of  us  tempted  to  think  that  a 
considerable  proportion  of  our  life  is  too  insignificant 
to  attract  the  particular  attention  of  God.  We  can 
understand  that  He  takes  notice  of  our  entrance  into, 
and  our  exit  from,  the  world,  but  we  think  that  between 
the  two  Hmits  He  leaves  us  to  '^  devise  our  own  ways." 
Or  possibly  we  can  recognise  His  interest  in  the  crises 
of  our  life,  but  are  incHned  to  question  His  minute  care 
of  the  common  and  monotonous  routine.  He  marks 
what  business  we  enter,  but,  when  we  are  in  it,  lets  us 
alone.  He  is  interested  in  our  marriage,  but,  when  we 
are  married,  leaves  husband  and  wife  to  adjust  their 
own  relations.  Or  He  marks  a  large  business  transac- 
tion in  which  there  is  room  for  a  really  gigantic  fraud, 
but  cannot  pay  any  attention  to  a  minute  sale  over  the 
counter,  the  trivial  adulteration  of  a  common  article, 
the  ingenious  subterfuge  for  disposing  of  a  damaged  or 


xvi.  1 1 ;  xi.  I ;  xx.  lO,  23.]    A  JUST  BALANCE.  221 

useless  stock.  Is  not  this  our  unspoken  but  implicit 
mode  of  reasoning  ?  And  could  anything  be  more 
illogical  ?  The  Divine  Power  which  could  create  this 
infinitely  diversified  universe  must  be  able  to  mark  every 
tiniest  detail  of  the  tiniest  object  in  it.  Great  and  small 
are  relative  terms,  and  have  no  significance  to  Him. 
Naturalists  tell  us  that  in  the  scale  of  living  creatures, 
arranged  according  to  size,  the  common  beetle  occupies 
the  middle  point,  the  smallest  living  creature  being  as 
much  smaller  as  the  largest  is  larger  than  it.  And  yet 
the  microscope,  so  far  from  showing  that  God  takes  less 
care  with  the  infinitesimal  creations  of  His  hand,  rather 
inclines  us  to  say  that  the  smaller  the  creature  is,  the 
more  delicate  adjustment,  the  more  exquisite  propor- 
tions, the  more  brilliant  hues,  does  it  display.  Our 
Lord  brought  home  to  us  this  minuteness  of  the  Divine 
Mind,  this  infinite  power  of  embracing  the  veriest  trifles 
of  the  creation  in  His  thought  and  care,  by  assuring  us 
that  not  a  sparrow  falls  without  His  notice  and  that 
the  hairs  of  our  heads  are  all  numbered. 

There  is  then  no  logical  resting-place,  when  we  are 
thinking  of  the  Mind  of  God.  If  He  knows  us  at  all, 
He  knows  all  about  us.  If  He  marks  what  we  consider 
the  important  things  in  our  life.  He  marks  equally  what 
we  consider  the  unimportant  things.  The  whole  life, 
with  every  detail  from  birth  to  death,  is  accurately 
photographed  in  the  light  of  His  omniscience ;  and 
as  the  exposed  plate  of  the  camera  receives  many 
details  which  escape  the  observation  of  our  eyes,  so 
the  smallest  and  least  observed  transaction  in  the  daily 
business,  every  figure  entered  truly  or  falsely  in  the 
ledger,  every  coin  dropped  justly  or  dishonestly  into 
the  till,  every  bale,  every  packet,  every  thread,  every 


222  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

pin,  which  changes  hands  in  the  market,  passes  at  once 
into  the  observant  and  comprehending  mind  of  God.^ 

Second.  But  in  this  exhaustive  and  detailed  know- 
ledge of  the -way  in  which  you  are  conducting  your 
business.  His  warm  approval  follows  everything  that 
is  honest  and  just.  His  vehement  censure  lights  on  all 
that  is  dishonest  or  unjust.  It  may  come  as  a  great 
comfort  to  you  to  know  that  a  little  business  matter 
which  cost  you  a  considerable  struggle  the  other  day 
was  duly  noted  and  recorded  by  the  Lord.  I  was  not 
present  at  the  time,  nor  did  any  one  who  was  near 
you  in  the  least  surmise  what  was  passing.  But 
you  suddenly  recognised  the  possibiUty  of  making  a 
large  profit  by  simply  adopting  a  very  slight  subter- 
fuge ;  what  made  the  case  peculiarly  difficult  was  that 
neighbouring  and  rival  firms  to  your  certain  knowledge 
did  the  like  every  day ;  the  innocent  faces  of  wife  and 
children  at  home  seem  to  urge  you,  for  what  a  differ- 
ence would  this  sum  of  money  make  to  their  comfort 
and  welfare  in  the  coming  year  !  you  weighed  the  little 
trick  over  and  over  again,  and  set  it  now  in  this  light, 
now  in  that,  until  at  last  the  black  began  to  seem  grey, 
and  the  grey  almost  white.  After  all,  was  it  a  subter- 
fuge ?  was  it  not  merely  a  quite  legitimate  reserve,  an 
even  laudable   commercial   prudence  ?      And  then,  as 

'  It  seems  impossible  that  a  general  and  perfect  morality  in 
business  can  ever  be  attained  apart  from  this  apprehension  of  an 
Omniscient  Mind  weighing  and  judging,  as  well  as  accurately  observ- 
ing, everything  done  even  in  secret.  In  mediaeval  Europe,  when  this 
faith  was  practically  unquestioned,  there  was  a  certain  honesty  and 
sincerity  in  handicrafts  and  in  general  dealing,  until  the  Church  made 
the  fatal  blunder  of  granting  indulgences  for  men's  peccadilloes,  and 
professing  to  exonerate  them  from  the  consequences  of  the  truth 
which  she  herself  in  theorj^  held. 


xvi.  ii;xi.  i;xx.  lo,  23-]     A  JUST  BALANCE.  223 

you  wavered,  some  clear  light  of  truth  fell  upon  your 
mind;  you  saw  distinctly  what  was  the  right  course, 
and  very  quietly  you  took  it  ;  the  prospect  of  gain  was 
surrendered,  you  saw  the  advantage  pass  over  to  your 
rival ;  he  availed  himself  of  it,  and  went  to  church  next 
Sunday  just  the  same.  Sometimes  you  have  wondered 
whether  after  all  you  were  not  too  scrupulous. 

Now  all  that  God  knows ;  it  is  His  delight ;  He  has 
recorded  it  already  in  His  Book,  and  also  in  your  own 
moral  nature,  which  is  the  stronger  and  the  better  for  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  a  subject  of  some  con- 
cern to  many  that  the  same  all-observing,  all-recording 
Mind  regards  with  hatred  all  the  sharp  practices  by 
which  in  business  we  deceive  and  defraud  one  another. 
I  suppose  there  is  a  way  of  making  up  books  which 
would  pass  any  accountant  in  London,  and  yet  would 
not  pass  the  audit  of  God.  I  suppose  there  are  gains 
which  to  the  average  commercial  conscience  of  to-day 
appear  fair  enough,  and  yet  to  the  One  who  weighs  the 
spirits  of  men  seem  to  be  quite  illicit.  There  must  be 
men  who  made  their  money  long  ago  in  certain  ways 
best  known  to  themselves,  and  are  now  living  in  great 
comfort ;  but  all  the  time  in  the  books  of  God  a  terrible 
record  stands  against  them,  and  as  the  eye  of  God  falls 
upon  those  pages,  the  moan  of  the  ruined,  the  cry  of 
the  fatherless  and  the  widow,  and  the  horrified  entreaties 
of  the  helpless  come  up  into  His  car. 

We  have  no  reason  for  thinking  that  the  unjust 
balance  has  become  any  less  abominable  to  the  Lord 
because  the  eager  and  relentless  competition  of  modern 
industrial  life  has  multiplied,  while  it  has  refined,  the 
methods  of  fraud,  and  has  created  a  condition  of  things 
in  which,  as  so  many  people  urge,  questionable  practices 


224  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


have  become  a  .;ually  necessary  for  one  who  would 
keep  his  head  ;^JOve  water.  We  have  no  reason  to 
think  that  God  regards  it  as  at  all  essential  that  any 
of  us  should  keep  his  head  above  water.  The  warm 
and  honourable  reception  given  to  Lazarus  in  heaven, 
when  his  head  had  gone  under  the  waters  on  earth, 
might  lead  us  to  think  that  what  we  call  failures  here 
may  possibly  be  regarded  as  grand  successes  there. 
But  we  have  every  reason  to  think  that  double  dealing, 
no  matter  what  may  be  the  plea,  is  abominable  in  the 
sight  of  the  Lord. 

It  is  in  vain  to  point  to  the  great  prosperity  which 
has  fallen  to  the  lot  of  some  whose  dishonourable 
practices  have  been  notorious.  It  is  beyond  a  doubt 
that  knavery  may  be  successful  in  its  way  and  a  clever 
rogue  may  outdistance  an  honest  dullard.  The  proverb 
*'  Honesty  is  the  best  poHcy  "  is  not,  as  some  people 
seem  to  think,  in  the  Bible ;  honesty  may  or  may  not 
be  the  best  policy,  according  to  the  object  which  you 
have  in  view.  If  your  object  is  simply  to  amass 
wealth,  the  saying  will  read,  "  Honesty  is  the  best 
policy ;  and  where  it  is  not,  be  dishonest."  God  does 
not  judge  in  the  least  by  w^orldly  prosperity.  From  the 
parable  just  alluded  to  one  would  conclude  that  it  is, 
in  heaven,  a  certain  presumption  against  a  man  ;  there 
may  yet  prove  to  be  truth  in  the  hard  saying,  *'  He 
that  dies  rich  is  damned."  If  God  hates  these  question- 
able practices  which  are  said  to  exist  in  modern  trade, 
and  if  He  enters  them  all  in  His  black  books,  they 
who  prosper  by  employing  them  are  none  the  less 
failures  :  their  ruin  is  sure ;  their  remorse  will  be  as 
inevitable  as  their  recovery  will  be  impossible. 

Third.  I  come    therefore    now  to    urge  upon  all    of 


xvi.  1 1 ;  xi.  I ;  XX.  lo,  23.]    A  JUST  BALANCE^  225 

you  that  you  should  order  all  your  bu^y-^ess  ways  as  in 
the  sight  of  God,  and  concern  yours^jtves  chiefly  with 
the  thought  how  they  may  be  in  couibrmity  with  His 
holy  Will.  Do  not  be  content  with  estimating  your 
conduct  by  the  judgment  which  other  men  would  pass 
upon  it.  While  such  an  estimate  might  reveal  many 
things  which  would  not  pass  muster,  it  is  doubtful 
whether  their  problematical  censure  will  afford  an 
adequate  motive  for  reform,  and  it  is  sure  to  overlook 
many  of  the  evils  which  they  are  bound  to  wink  at, 
because  their  own  hands  are  not  clean.  Do  not  be 
content  even  with  estimating  your  conduct  by  the 
standard  of  your  own  unaided  conscience.  Your  con- 
science may  at  any  given  time  be  in  a  degraded  state ; 
in  order  to  keep  it  quiet  you  may  have  brought  it  down 
to  the  level  of  your  conduct.  A  thief's  conscience 
seldom  troubles  him  unless  his  theft  is  unsuccessful,  in 
which  case  it  reproaches  him  for  not  being  more  careful 
and  more  skilful.  You  may,  like  St.  Paul,  know  nothing 
against  yourself  and  yet  not  be  thereby  justified.  For 
doubtless  most  of  the  evil  practices  of  our  time  represent 
a  conscience  that  has  been  stupified  with  sophistry  and 
deadened  with  selfishness,  so  that  the  worst  culprits  are 
the  first  to  put  on  an  air  of  injured  innocence,  and  those 
who  are  least  guilty  suffer  most  just  because  the  con- 
science is  still  sensitive  and  has  not  yet  been  seared  with 
the  usual  hot  iron. 

No,  the  only  safe  and  effectual  method  is  to  bring  all 
your  business  habits,  all  the  practices  of  the  counter 
and  the  counting-house,  under  the  searching  eye  of  the 
All-seeing  One.  Unless  you  realize  that  He  sees  and 
knows,  and  unless  you  humbly  submit  everything  to 
His  judgment,  you  are  sure  to  go  wrong  ;  your  standard 

15 


226  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

will  insensibly  fall,  and  you  will  insensibly  fall  away 
even  from  the  fallen  standard.  It  is  said  that  peculiar 
difficulties  beset  you  in  the  present  day ;  it  is  said  that 
it  was  never  so  hard  to  be  straightforward  and  above- 
board  in  commercial  dealings ;  it  is  said  that  the  insane 
Moloch  of  competition  imperatively  demands  the  blood 
of  our  youth,  and  even  makes  assaults  on  the  established 
virtues  of  maturity.  It  may  be  so,  though  we  are 
generally  inclined  to  exaggerate  the  peculiar  temptations 
of  our  own  time  in  comparison  with  those  of  a  former 
age;  but  if  it  is  so,  then  there  is  all  the  more  urgent  a 
necessity  that  you  should  bring  your  affairs  to  God's 
judgment,  seek  diligently  to  understand  His  will,  and 
then  ask  Him  for  a  peculiar  strength  to  enable  you 
to  overcome  these  peculiar  temptations.  You  will  not 
alter  His  judgment  of  your  conduct  by  attempting  to 
ignore  it.  But  by  seeking  to  understand  it,  and  by 
laying  your  heart  open  to  be  influenced  by  it,  you  will 
find  that  your  conduct  is  perceptibly  altered  and  ap- 
parent impossibilities  are  overcome,  because  "by  the 
fear  of  the  Lord  men  depart  from  evil."  ^ 

Prov.  xvi.  6. 


XVII. 

FRIENDSHIP. 

"  A  friend  lovcth  at  all  times,  and  as  a  brother  is  born  lor  adver- 
sity."— Pkov.  xvii.  17.  (This  rendering,  based  upon  the  margin  of  the 
R.V.,  yields  a  much  better  sense  than  the  loosely  connected,  "  And  a 
brother  is  born  for  adversity.'') 

ONE  of  the  most  striking  contrasts  between  the 
ancient  and..^he  modern  world  is  in  the  place 
which  is  given  to  Friendship  by  moralists  and  religious 
teachers.  In  Aristotle's  famous  treatise  on  Ethics  two 
books  out  of  nine  are  devoted  to  the  moral  bearings  of 
Friendship,  and  these  books  form  the  climax  of  the  work, 
and  are  the  natural  transition  to  the  work  on  PoKtics, 
or  the  science  of  the  State.  This  central  position  given 
to  the  subject  by  the  greatest  and  most  systematic 
teacher  of  antiquity,  compared  with  the  very  subor- 
dinate part  which  friendship  plays  in  Christian  ethics, 
is  calculated  to  make  us  reflect  and  enquire.  Is  not  the 
explanation  probably  this  ?  Our  Lord  gave  a  great  new 
commandment  to  His  disciples,  that  they  should  love 
one  another;  and  though  Christian  men  have  as  yet  but 
imperfectly  understood  what  He  meant,  or  carried  out 
what  they  have  understood,  an  ideal  was  created  which 
far  transcended  that  lower  relationship  of  antiquity. 
Greek  friendship  was  to  be  merged  in  Christian  love. 


228  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

The    meaning   of  such    a   change   will    appear    if   we 
remember    two    characteristics  of  mere  friendship,  on 
which  Aristotle  dwells.     One  is  that  it  is  necessarily 
based  upon  selfishness  ;  springing  from  a  wish  to  realize 
oneself  in    the  life  of  another,  fed    by  the    benefit  or 
pleasure  derived   from   the   mutual  intercourse,  it   lies 
under  the  necessary  limitation  that  we  shall  not  wish 
for  our  friend  a  good  which  would  remove  him  from 
us,  or  an  improvement  which  would  raise  him  too  far 
above  us.     For  the  second  point  is  that  friendship  can 
only  exist  between  equals,  and  the  best  friendship  is 
that  between  good  men  who  stand  upon  the  same  level 
of  virtue.     Christian  love,  on  the  other  hand,  springs 
from  a  complete  abnegation  of  Self.     It  seeks  nothing  : 
it  gives  all.    So  far  from  laying  stress  upon  the  equality 
of  conditions,  it  is  never  better  pleased  than  when  it 
can  raise  another  to  a  position  of  excellence  far  sur- 
passing its  own,  and   instead   of  seeking   its   highest 
satisfaction  in  intercourse  with  its  spiritual  peers, — the 
good,  the  great,  the  saintly, — it  attains  its  apotheosis 
when  it  is  allowed  to  embrace  the  weak,  the  sinful,  the 
fallen,  and  to  lavish  all  its  Divine  resources  upon  those 
who  may  never  be  able  to  repay  it  even  with  gratitude. 
It   is   obvious,  then,  that  friendship   is   on  a  lower 
plane  than  Christian  love,  and  it  marks  a  great  advance 
in  ideal  ethics  when  the  lesser  star  pales  in  presence 
of  the  greater;  but  it  may   be  urged  with    truth  that 
friendship  still  has    its    place  in    life,  and    deserves   a 
more  careful   attention  than  it  receives.     In  the  indi- 
vidual, as  in  the  race,  friendship  may  be  a  prelude  and 
a  practice  of  the  nobler  and  wider  relation.     And  there 
is   this  further   reason   for   trying   to   understand    the 
nature  of  friendship,  that  it  is  more  than  once  in  the 


xvii.  17.]  FRIENDSHIP.  229 

Bible  used  as  a  type  and  a  figure  of  the  relationship 
which  may  exist  between  the  soul  and  its  God. 

We  will  proceed  then  to  examine  some  of  the  cha- 
racteristics of  friendship  referred  to  in  the  book  of 
Proverbs. 
/  Friends,  according  to  the  original  sense  of  the 
Hebrew  word,  are  those  who  delight  in  one  another's 
companionship ;  either  they  are  useful  to  one  another 
because  each  possesses  gifts  which  the  other  has  not, 
or  they  are  agreeable  to  one  another  because  they  have 
certain  tastes  in  common.  Thus  there  may  of  course 
be  a  friendship  in  evil,  in  vice,  in  destructive  practices  ; 
thieves  may  enter  into  a  league  to  carry  out  their  anti- 
social designs,  and  may  be  very  true  to  one  another  ; 
vicious  men  may  find  a  bond  of  friendship  in  the 
common  indulgence  of  their  vices  ;  and  in  this  way 
friendship,  so  called,  may  be  a  means  of  ruining  the 
friends.  ''There  are  friends  for  mutual  shattering," 
just  as  i'  there  is  a  lover  that  cleaves  more  than  a 
brother."  ^  There  may  also  be  an  interested  comrade- 
ship which  is  entirely  hypocritical ;  such  a  friendship  is 
usually  marked  by  a  loud  and  ostentatious  demonstra- 
tion :  ''  He  that  blesseth  his  friend  with  a  loud  voice, 
rising  early  in  the  morning,  it  shall  be  counted  a  curse 
to  him."  -  But,  in  the  main,  friendship  implies  a  certain 
amount  of  goodness  ;  for  it  is  in  itself  a  virtue.  The 
suspicious,  malignant  nature  of  evil  men  speedily  snaps 
the  ties  which  bind  them  together  for  a  time ;  and 
where  honour  exists  among  thieves  it  affords  a  strong 

•  Prov.  xviii.  24.  This  sense  is  obtained  by  what  appears  a  neces- 
sary change  in  the  text;  we  must  read  ^\  for  C'"'N.  A  similar  error 
occurs  2  Sam.  xiv.  19  and  Micah  vi.  10. 

-  Prov.  xxvii.  14. 


230  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

presumption  that  the  thieves  are  the  product  of  a  wrong 
social  state,  rather  than  of  a  naturally  evil  disposition. 

We  may  then  practically,  in  thinking  of  friendship, 
confine  our  attention  to  that  which  exists  between  well- 
meaning  people,  and  tends  on  the  whole  to  bless,  to 
strengthen,  and  to  improve  them.  We  may  come  to 
look  at  some  of  the  uses  and  the  delights  of  friendship. 
"  As  in  water  face  answers  to  face,  so  in  the  heart  man 
answers  to  man."  ^  In  the  heart  of  our  friend  we  see 
our  own  character  reflected  just  as  gazing  into  a  still 
pool  we  see  the  reflection  of  our  own  face.  It  is  in 
the  frank  and  sympathetic  intercourse  of  friendship 
that  we  really  get  to  know  ourselves,  and  to  realize 
what  is  in  us.  We  unfold  to  one  another,  we  discover 
our  similarities  and  mark  our  differences.  Points 
which  remained  unobserved  in  our  own  hearts  are 
immediately  detected  and  understood  when  we  see 
them  also  in  our  friends ;  faculties  which  remained 
unused  are  brought  into  play  to  supplement  the  dis- 
covered defects  in  our  friend's  nature.  We  hardly 
guess  what  a  fund  of  happy  humour  is  in  us  until  we 
are  encouraged  to  display  it  by  observing  how  its 
flashes  light  up  the  face  we  love.  Our  capacities  of 
sympathy  and  tenderness  remain  undeveloped  until  we 
wish  eagerly  to  comfort  our  friend  in  a  sudden  sorrow. 
In  a  true  friendship  we  find  that  we  are  living  a  life 
which  is  doubled  in  all  its  faculties  of  enjoyment  and 
of  service ;  ^  we  quite  shudder  to  think  what  cold, 
apathetic,  undeveloped  creatures  we  should  have  been 
but   for   that   genial    touch   which    unfolded    us,    and 

*  Prov.  xxvii.  19. 

^  "  Sorrows  by  being  communicated  grow  less  and  joys  greater." 

— Bacon. 


X vi  i .  1 7.  ]  FRIENDSHIP. 


warmed  our  hearts  into  genuine  feeling  while  it  brought 
our  minds  into  active  play.  This  intellectual  value 
of  friendship  is  brought  out  in  the  happy  saying : 
*^  Iron  sharpeneth  iron  ;  so  a  man  sharpeneth  the 
countenance  of  his  friend."  ^  A  friendless  person  has  a 
lack-lustre  face ;  his  talk  has  a  dull  edge  ;  his  emotions 
a  poor  and  feeble  flow.  That  delightful  readiness  of 
thought  and  expression  which  makes  all  the  charm  of 
social  intercourse,  the  easy  tact  which  rubs  off  the 
angles  and  smooths  all  the  relations  of  life,  the  bright 
coruscations  which  seem  like  sunlight  playing  over 
summer  seas,  are  usually  the  result  of  close  and 
intimate  communion  with  congenial  friends.  Reading 
may  make  a  learned  man,  and  without  hard  study  few 
people  can  accomplish  much  permanent  good  in  the 
world,  but  reading  does  not  necessarily  make  a- really 
social  man,  one  who  brings  his  fellow-creatures 
together  in  happy  and  helpful  relationships ;  that 
beautiful  faculty  is  only  acquired  by  the  fostering  and 
stimulating  influences  of  heart  companionships.  When 
we  have  real  friends,  though  they  be  only  a  few,  we 
diffuse  a  friendly  feeling  amongst  others,  wherever  we 
go.  Possibly  also  in  the  simile  of  the  iron  lies  a 
reminder  of  the  discipline  which  friendship  gives  to 
character,  a  discipline  which  is  not  always  unaccom- 
panied by  pain.  Friends  "  rub  each  other's  angles 
down,"  and  sometimes  the  friction  is  a  little  distressing 
to  both  sides.  The  blades  are  sharpened,  by  a  few 
imperceptible  filings  being  ground  off  each  of  their 
edges.  The  use  of  friendship  depends  very  largely 
on  its  frankness,  just  as  its  sweetness  depends  upon 


Prov.  xxvii.  17. 


232  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

mutual  consideration.  When  the  frankness  hurts  we 
have  to  remind  ourselves  of  the  wholesome  truth  that 
the  soft  speaking  is  not  always  a  token  of  love,  and  the 
hard  sayings  of  our  friend  may  be  uttered  at  a  great 
personal  cost,  for  our  good  rather  than  his.  ''  Faithful 
are  the  wounds  of  a  friend  :  but  the  kisses  of  an  enemy 
are  profuse."  ^ 

'  If,  however,  friendship  ripens  through  many  years  of 
kindly  growth,  or  if  a  swift  elective  affinity  forestalls  at 
once  the  fruit  of  years,  all  the  pain  of  mutual  counsel 
and  correction  disappears,  and  may  be  changed  into  a 
joy  very  sweet  to  the  soul.  "  Ointment  and  perfume 
rejoice  the  heart :  so  doth  the  sweetness  of  a  man's 
friend  that  cometh  of  soul  counsel."^  It  is  a  very 
beautiful  condition  of  things  which  is  referred  to  in 
this  proverb.  Two  people  have  learnt  thoroughly  to 
understand  one  another,  and  have  become  in  a  certain 
sense  one.  Each  recognises  the  service  that  the  other 
renders,  and  welcomes  the  advice  or  even  the  rebuke 
which  is  made  possible  by  their  relationship.  The 
interchange  of  affection  is  naturally  sweet,  but  as  sweet, 
or  even  sometimes  sweeter,  is  the  delicate  aroma  which 
arises  when  one  sees  a  fault  in  the  other,  and  with  a 
tenderness  begotten  of  affection,  and  a  humility  which 
trembles  to  presume,  speaks  gently  but  frankly  to  his 
friend.  Never  do  the  eyes  more  eagerly  respond  to  one 
another,  never  is  the  hand-clasp  so  firm  and  hearty,  as 
after  such  a  passage  between  true  friends. 

But  the  decisive  test  and  the  most  beautiful  proof  of 
real  friendship  will  be  found  in  the  day  of  adversity. 
A  friend  is  never  known  till  needed.^     When  calamity 

'  Prov.  xxvii.  6.  ^  Prov.  xxvii.  9. 

^  "Amicus  certus  in  re  incerta  cernitur." — Cicero. 


FRIENDSHIP.  233 


falls  upon  us,  false  friends  make  excuses  and  go ;  lip- 
friends  relapse  into  silence ;  but  we  begin  then  for  the 
first  time  to  find  out  who  is  a  friend  indeed.  Then  it 
appears  that  the  true  friend  is  entirely  unchanged  by 
the  changed  aspect  of  affairs ;  it  seems  as  if  he  had 
been  born  into  a  brotherhood  with  us  for  this  express 
occasion.  There  is  no  wish  to  cry  off;  he  seems 
even  to  press  the  brotherly  tie  in  a  way  which  we 
should  not  have  presumed  to  expect,  and  thus  he 
contrives  to  lighten  the  oppressive  burden  of  obligation 
for  the  favour  that  he  confers  on  us,  by  making  it 
appear  that  he  was  bound  to  act  as  he  does  by  a 
necessity  of  kinship.  This  seems  to  be  the  meaning 
of  our  text.  Such  a  friend,  if  he  be  near  at  hand  and 
in  constant  contact  with  us,  is  of  more  service  than  our 
own  brother ;  ^  and  when  through  his  timely  aid  or 
effectual  comfort  we  have  come  out  of  the  furnace,  and 
our  tears  are  dried,  we  say  constantly  to  ourselves  that 
we  doubt  whether  our  own  brother  would  have  clung  to 
us  so  faithfully,  would  have  borne  with  our  querulous 
murmurs  so  patiently,  or  relieved  our  necessities  so 
delicately  and  so  liberally."^ 

If  3'ou  have  such  a  friend  as  this,  your  own  or  your 
father's,  take  care  to  retain  him  ;  do  not  alienate  him 
by  negligence  or  a  deficient  consideration.  Put  your- 
self out  of  the  way  to  show  that  you  appreciate  and 
value  him ;  do  not  allow  a  false  reserve  or  a  foolish 
shyness  to  check  your  expression  of  gratitude.  A 
friendship  is  a  delicate  growth ;  and  even  when  it  has 
become  robust,  it  can  easily  be  blighted.  The  results 
of  years  may  be  lost  in  a  few  days.     And  if  a  root  of 

'  Prov.  xxvii.  lo.  2  prov.  xviii.  24. 


234  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

bitterness  springs  up,  if  a  division  occurs,  it  may  be 
quite  impossible  by  every  effort  in  your  power  to  heal 
the  breach  or  to  pluck  up  that  obstinate  root.  ''  A 
brother  offended  is  harder  to  be  won  than  a  strong 
city :  and  such  contentions  are  like  the  bars  of  a 
castle."^  The  closer  the  intimacy  had  been,  the  tenderer 
the  friendship,  so  much  the  sterner  will  be  these  bars, 
so  much  the  more  inexpugnable  the  castle.  For  it  will 
be  felt,  if  such  protestations,  such  interchange  of  affec- 
tion, such  mutual  delights,  could  have  been. deceptive, 
mere  hypocrisies  or  delusions,  what  hope  can  there  be 
that  the  same  things  broken  and  patched  up  again  can 
be  of  any  worth  ?  A  difference  with  a  chance  acquaint- 
ance is  easily  removed  ;  further  knowledge  may  improve 
our  opinion  of  one  another,  and  even  if  we  separate  we 
have  no  deep  resentment.  But  a  difference  between  true 
friends  may  quickly  become  irreparable.  They  feel  that 
there  is  no  more  to  know ;  they  have  seen  the  best  and 
that  has  proved  disappointing.  The  resentment  springs 
from  a  sense  of  abused  confidence  and  injured  love. 

If  you  have  real  friends  then,  take  pains  to  keep 
them.  Watch  carefully  for  the  small  beginnings  of  a 
rupture  and  hasten  to  heal  it.  Think  no  effort  is 
wasted,  and  no  apology  or  explanation  is  too  humili- 
ating, which  may  avert  that  great  calamity, — the  loss 
of  a  true  soul-comrade ;  one  whom  you  have  learnt  to 
honour  with  the  name  and  dignity  of  friend. 

"The  friends  thou  hast,  and  their  adoption  tried," 

says  our  wise  poet, 

"  Grapple  them  to  thy  soul  with  hooks  of  steel." 
'  Prov.'xviii.  19. 


xvii.  17.]  FRIENDSHIP.  235 

Such  a  friendship  as  we  have  been  considering,  rare 
and  beautiful  as  it  is,  forms  a  noble  stepping-stone  to 
the  loftier  relationship  of  Christian  love.  In  tone  and 
quality  it  is  almost  the  same  ;  it  differs  only  in  its 
range  and  in  its  motive.  What  one  man  feels  to 
another  in  an  ideal  friendship,  the  Christian  is  called 
upon,  according  to  his  capacity  and  opportunity,  to  feel 
to  man  as  man,  to  all  his  fellow-creatures.  We  cannot 
of  course  fulfil  all  the  offices  of  friendship  to  every  one, 
and  we  are  not  as  Christians  required  to  abate  one 
jot  of  our  love  to  those  who  are  our  friends  by  affinity 
and  by  choice.  But  where  the  heart  is  truly  Christian 
it  will  become  more  expansive,  and  it  will  be  conscious 
of  the  powerful  claims  which  weakness,  misery,  solitude, 
or  even  moral  failings,  make  upon  its  friendship  ;  it  will 
shrink  from  the  selfishness  inherent  in  all  affections 
which  are  merely  selective  and  exclusive ;  it  will 
earnestly  desire  to  feel  an  affection  which  is  inclusive 
and  quite  unselfish.  Where  is  to  be  found  the  motive 
for  such  an  enlarged  spirit  of  friendship  ?  Whence 
is  to  come  the  impulse  to  such  a  self-surrender  ? 

Surely  such  a  motive  and  such  an  impulse  are  to  be 
discovered  only  in  that  relation  of  friendship  which 
God  Himself  deigns  to  sustain  towards  the  human 
soul.  Jehoshaphat  in  his  prayer  appeals  to  God  on 
the  ground  that  He  had  given  the  land  to  "  Abraham 
His  friend  for  ever."  ^  And  we  read  of  Moses  that 
*^the  Lord  spake  unto  him  face  to  face,  as  a  man 
speaketh  unto  his  friend."  '^  I  But  in  this  position  of 
one  who  is  called  the  father  of  the  faithful,  and  of  one 
who  was   the   leader   of  his   people,    we   cannot   but 

*  2  Chron.  xx.  7.  -  Exod.  xxxiii.  II. 


236  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

recognise  a  promise  and  a  foreshadowing  of  a  relation 
wilh  God  which  was  meant  to  become  more  general. 
The  whole  tendency  of  the  Gospel  is  to  put  every 
believer  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  on  a  spiritual  level 
with  the  most  favoured  and  richly  endowed  of  a  former 
dispensation.  And  since  the  Incarnate  Son  lived  on 
earth,  and  called  the  simple  peasants  of  Galilee  to  be, 
not  His  servants,  but  His  friends,  if  they  did  whatsoever 
He  commanded  them,^  we  may  without  presumption — 
nay,  we  must  if  we  would  not  grieve  Him  by  unbelief 
— accept  the  mysteriously  dignified  position  of  God's 
friends.  The  feeblest  and  the  poorest,  as  well  as  the 
strongest  and  most  gifted,  believing  in  Jesus  Christ,  in 
proportion  as  he  heartily  accepts  the  authority  and 
obeys  the  commandment  of  his  Lord,  is  a  friend  of 
God.  It  is  a  very  unequal  friendship,  as  we  must  all 
feel.  He  has  all  the  strength,  all  the  wisdom,  all  the 
goodness,  all  the  gifts ;  but  the  sense  of  inequality  is 
removed  by  His  own  gracious  friendhness  :  He  attaches 
such  importance  to  a  heartfelt  love  that  He  is  willing 
to  accept  that  as  the  fair  equivalent  of  all  that  He  does 
and  gives  to  us  ;  and  He  remedies  the  terrible  inferiority 
of  His  friends  by  realizing  His  own  life  in  them  and 
merging  their  imperfection  in  His  perfectness,  their 
limitations  in  His  infinity. 

Now,  shall  we  venture  to  assume  that  you  and  God 
are  friends  ;  that  the  beautiful  relation  which  we  have 
examined,  the  delight  in  mutual  companionship,  the 
interchange  of  thought  and  feeling,  the  quick  and 
quickening  response  of  love  and  comprehension,  exist 
between  you  and  Him  ?     Come  and  read  some  of  these 

'  John  XV.  14. 


xvii.  17.]  FRIENDSHIP.  237 

sayings  again  and  apply  them  to  Him.  You  may  gaze 
into  the  heart  of  God,  and  as  face  answers  to  face  in  a 
quiet  pool,  you  may  find  yourself  in  Ilim, — a  larger  self, 
a  truer  self,  a  holier  self,  than  you  could  ever  find 
in  any  human  fellowship,  or  than  you  had  ever  dared 
to  imagine.  This  familiar  intercourse  with  God,  which 
has  its  roots  in  a  profound  reverence  and  its  fruits 
in  an  unutterable  joy,  is  the  new  creation  of  a  human 
soul.  A  man  will  be  known  by  his  friends,  and  most 
assuredly  he  will  be  known,  if  his  Friend  and  most  con- 
stant Companion  is  God.  He  will  regard  that  status  as 
his  highest  title  and  distinction,  just  as  Lord  Brooks  was 
so  proud  of  knowing  Sir  Philip  Sydney  that  he  wished 
his  epitaph  to  be  "  Here  lies  Sir  Philip  Sydney's  friend." 

Again,  in  this  close  fellowship  with  God,  in  His 
warnings  and  encouragements  and  chastisements,  even 
in  the  "  faithful  wounds  "  that  He  inflicts,  does  not  the 
heart  perceive  His  sweetness  as  an  ointment  and  per- 
fume ?  Does  not  the  quiet  place  where  these  passages 
of  tender  friendship  between  your  soul  and  God  occur 
become  redolent  with  a  precious  fragrance,  as  of  in- 
cense or  of  fresh  flowers? 

And  then  the  deep  meaning  which  the  friendship 
of  God  brings  into  our  text,  "  A  friend  loveth  at  all 
times,  and  as  a  brother  " — yes,  our  Divine  Brother,  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ — "is  born  for  adversity  ;"  or  into  that 
other  saying,  "  There  is  a  lover  that  cleaves  more  than 
a  brother  "  !  Let  us  have  no  loud  pharisaical  ways  in 
blessing  our  Friend,'  but  let  no  effort  seem  too  exacting 
to  retain  unbroken  this  priceless  blessing  of  the  Divine 
Communion  ! 

•  Prov.  xxvii.  14. 


238  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

Now,  where  the  soul  counts  God  its  nearest  and 
dearest  Friend, — the  Friend  of  whom  nothing  in  life  or 
death  can  rob  it, — this  effect  follows  by  a  beautiful 
necessity  :  the  chief  and  all-inclusive  friendship  being 
secured,  we  are  at  leisure  from  ourselves  to  soothe  and 
sympathise,  we  are  able  to  extend  our  thoughts  and  our 
ministries  of  love  to  all  around  us,  and  to  reflect  in  our 
relations  with  men  that  exquisite  relation  which  God 
has  deigned  to  establish  with  us.  Our  own  private 
friendships  then  produce  no  exclusiveness,  but  rather 
they  become  the  types  of  our  feelings  to  others,  and 
the  ever-springing  fountainhead  of  friendly  thoughts 
and  courteous  deeds ;  while  these  private  friendships 
and  our  wider  relations  ahke  are  all  brought  up  into 
the  lofty  and  purifying  friendship  which  we  hold  with 
our  God  and  He  with  us. 


XVIII. 

THE    EVIL    OF   ISOLATION. 

'  He   that    separates   himself  follows   after    his   own    desire,    but 
against  all  sound  wisdom  he  shows  his  teeth." — Prov.  xviii.  I. 

FROM  the  value  of  friendship  there  is  a  natural 
and  easy  transition  to  the  evil  of  isolation.  We 
must  try  to  fathom  the  profound  meaning  which  is 
hidden  under  this  simple  but  striking  proverb.  To 
begin  with,  what  are  we  to  understand  by  "  one  that 
separates  himself"  ?  This  same  word  occurs  in  2  Sam. 
i.  23  concerning  Saul  and  Jonathan,  that  "in  their 
death  they  were  not  separated."  Theirs  was  a  together- 
ness which  accompanied  them  to  the  grave.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  are  people  who  shun  all  togetherness 
in  their  lives,  —  they  are  voluntarily,  deliberately 
separated  from  their  kind,  and  they  seem  for  the  first 
time  to  blend  with  their  fellows  when  their  undistin- 
guished dust  mixes  with  the  dust  of  others  in  the 
common  grave.  We  are  to  think  of  a  person  who  has 
no  ties  with  any  of  his  fellow-creatures,  who  has  broken 
such  ties  as  bound  him  to  them,  or  is  of  that  morbid 
and  unnatural  humour  that  makes  all  intercourse  with 
others  distasteful.  We  are  to  think  more  especially  of 
one  who  chooses  this  life  of  solitariness  in  order  to 
follow  out  his  own  desire  rather  than  from  any  necessity 


240  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

of  circumstance  or  disposition  ;  one  who  finds  his  plea- 
sure in  ignoring  mankind,  and  wishes  for  intercourse 
with  them  only  that  he  may  vent  his  spleen  against 
them  ;  in  a  word,  we  are  to  think  of  a  Misanthrope. 

We  must  be  careful  in  catching  the  precise  idea, 
because  there  are  men  who  shut  themselves  off  from 
their  kind,  rightly  or  wrongly,  in  order  to  seek  the 
common  welfare.  A  student  or  an  inventor,  some- 
times even  a  teacher  or  a  preacher,  will  find  the 
solitude  of  the  study  or  the  laboratory  the  only 
condition  on  which  he  can  accomplish  the  work  to 
which  he  is  called.  The  loss  of  domestic  life  or  of 
social  pleasures,  the  withdrawal  from  all  the  ^*  kindly 
ways  of  men,"  may  be  a  positive  pain  to  him,  a  cross 
which  he  bears  for  the  direct  good  of  those  whose 
company  he  forswears,  or  for  the  cause  of  Truth,  in 
whose  service  alone  it  is  possible  to  permanently 
benefit  his  fellows.  Such  a  *' separation  "  as  this — 
painful,  difficult,  unrewarded — we  must  exclude  from 
the  intention  of  our  text,  although  possibly  our  text 
might  convey  a  warning  even  to  these  benevolent 
eremites,  that  unless  the  heart  is  kept  warm  by  human 
sympathies,  unless  the  mind  is  kept  in  touch  with  the 
common  cares  and  joys  of  our  kind,  the  value  of  even 
intellectual  work  will  be  considerably  diminished, 
while  the  worker  himself  must  inevitably  and  perhaps 
needlessly  suffer.  But,  on  the  whole,  we  must  except 
these  nobler  instances  of  isolation,  if  we  would  feel  the 
full  force  of  the  judgment  which  is  pronounced  in  the 
text. 

The  misanthrope  is  one  who  has  no  faith  in  his 
fellows,  and  shrinks  into  himself  to  escape  them ;  who 
pursues  his  own  private  ends,  avoiding  all  unnecessary 


xviii.  I.]  THE  EVIL   OF  ISOLATION.  241 

speech  with  those  who  are  around  him,  living  alone, 
d^'ing  unobserved,  except  for  the  mischief  which 
consciously  or  unconsciously  he  does  to  those  who 
survive  him.  Such  an  one  is  aptly  described  as 
showing  his  teeth  ^  in  an  angry  snarl  against  all  the 
approaches  of  a  true  wisdom. 

Shakespeare  might  have  had  this  proverb  before  him 
in  that  grim  delineation  of  Richard  the  Third,  who 
boasts  that  he  has  neither  pity,  love,  nor  fear.  He 
was,  he  had  been  told,  born  with  teeth  in  his  mouth. 

"And  so  I  was,"  he  exclaims  ;   "  which  plainly  signified 
That  I  should  snarl,  and  bite,  and  play  the  dog." 

And  then  he  explains  his  terrible  character  in  these 
significant  lines  : — 

"  I  have  no  brother,  I  am  like  no  brother  : 
And  this  word  Love,  which  greybeards  call  divine, 
Be  resident  in  men  like  one  another, 
And  not  in  me  ;  /  am  myself  alone.''  ^ 

Yes,  Love  can  only  exist  among  men  who  are  like 
one  another  ;  and  no  more  damning  indictment  can 
be  brought  against  a  human  being  than  this,  that  he  is 
himself  alone. 

The  truth  is  that  every  man  is  not  only  a  ''self," 
a  personality,  but  he  is  a  very  complex  being  made 
up  of  many  relations  with  other  men.  He  is  a  son,  a 
brother,  a  friend,  a  father,  a  citizen.  Suppose  him  to 
be  stripped  of  all  sonship,  brotherhood,  friendship, 
fatherhood,  and  citizenship  ;  there  is  left,  not  a  man^ 
but  a  mere  self,  and  that  is  his  hideous  condemnation. 

*  See  note  on  V^lPiXy  in  Lecture  XV.,  p.  205. 
2  ///.  King  Ilenry.VL,  Actv.,  Sc.  6. 

16 


242  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


In  the  same  way,  a  woman  that  is  neither  daughter, 
nor  sister,  nor  wife,  nor  friend,  nor  ministrant,  does  not 
deserve  the  grand  name  of  woman ;  she  is  a  mere  self, 
a  point  of  exigent  and  querulous  desires.  The  most 
appaUing  discovery  in  a  great  city  is  that  multitudes 
have  become  mere  selves, — hungry,  hollow,  ravening, 
thirsty,  shrivelled  selves.  The  father  and  mother  are 
dead,  or  left  far  away,  probably  never  known ;  no 
one  is  brother  to  them,  they  are  brothers  to  no  one. 
P>iend  has  no  significance  to  their  understanding,  or 
means  only  one  who,  from  most  interested  motives, 
ministers  to  their  craving  appetites ;  they  are  not 
citizens  of  London,  nor  of  any  other  city ;  they  are  not 
Englishmen,  though  they  were  born  in  England,  nor 
have  they  any  other  nationality, — hideous,  clamorous, 
esurient  selves,  nothing  more.  An  old  Greek  saying 
declared  that  one  who  lives  alone  is  either  a  god  or 
a  wild  beast ;  ^  while,  as  we  have  already  seen,  there  are 
a  few  of  the  isolated  ones  who  are  isolated  from  noble 
and  even  Divine  motives,  the  vast  majority  are  in  this 
condition  because  they  have  fallen  from  the  level  of 
humanity  into  the  roving  and  predatory  state  of  wild 
animals,  that  seek  their  meat  by  night  and  lurk  in  a 
lonely  lair  by  day. 

The  ''  sound  wisdom "  against  which  the  isolated 
rage  is  nothing  less  than  the  kindly  law  which  makes 
us  men,  and  ordains  that  we  should  not  live  to  our- 
selves alone,  but  should  fulfil  our  noble  part  as  members 
one  of  another.  The  Social  Instinct  is  one  of  two  or 
three  striking  characteristics  which  mark  us  out  as 
human  :  a  man   by   himself  is  only  an  animal,  and  a 

'  ^  debs  "f)  drjpLov. 


xviii.  I.]  THE  EVIL   OF  ISOLATION.  243 


very  poor  animal  too;  in  size  he  is  far  beneath  the 
greatest  of  the  creatures  that  inhabit  land  and  sea ; 
he  is  not  as  swift  as  the  winged  denizens  of  the  air  ; 
his  strength  in  proportion  to  his  bulk  is  debility  com- 
pared with  that  of  the  tiniest  insects.  His  distinction 
in  the  creation,  and  his  excelling  dignity,  are  derived 
from  the  social  relations  which  make  him  in  combination 
strong,  in  the  intercourse  of  speech  and  thought,  wise, 
and  in  the  loving  response  of  heart  to  heart,  noble.  If 
by  some  unhappy  accident  a  human  being  wanders 
early  from  his  place  into  the  forests,  is  suckled  by  wild 
beasts,  and  grows  up  among  them,  the  result  is  an 
animal  inconceivably  repulsive,  fierce,  cunning,  and 
ugly ;  vulpine,  but  without  the  wolf's  agile  grace ; 
bearish,  but  without  the  bear's  slow-pacing  dignity. 

The  "  sound  wisdom  "  is  the  wisdom  of  the  Creator, 
who  from  the  beginning  determined  that  it  is  not  good 
for  men  to  live  alone,  and  marked  His  conception  of 
the  unity  which  should  bind  them  together  by  the  gift 
of  the  woman  to  the  man,  to  be  bone  of  his  bone  and 
flesh  of  his  flesh. 

It  becomes  therefore  a  necessity  to  every  wise 
human  being  to  recognise,  to  maintain,  and  to  cul- 
tivate all  those  wholesome  relationships  which  make 
us  truly  human.  "  As  a  bird  that  wandereth  from  her 
nest,  so  is  a  man  that  wandereth  from  his  place."  ^ 
Sometimes  when  a  great  ship  is  far  off  in  mid-ocean, 
a  tired  land-bird  will  fall  panting  and  exhausted 
upon  the  deck:  the  wings  can  beat  no  longer;  the 
eyes  glaze  ;  and  the  eager  wanderer  fails  and  dies. 
The    true    bird-life    is    the  life   of  the    woods,  of   the 

'  Prov.  xxvii.  8. 


244  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

toilsomely- woven  nest,  of  the  mate  and  the  brood 
and  the  fledglings.  In  the  same  way  on  those  ocean 
steamers — ay,  and  in  many  a  weary  b3^e-path  and 
lonely  desert  of  the  earth — may  be  found  men  who 
have  broken  away  from  the  ties  which  formed  their 
strength  and  their  truer  being,  and  now  fall,  faint  and 
purposeless,  to  languish  and  to  die.  For  true  human 
life  is  the  Hfe  of  our  fellows,  of  the  diligent  laborious 
housebuilding,  of  the  home,  of  the  young,  of  the 
rising  nestlings  which  are  to  form  the  next  link  in 
the  long  chain  of  the  generations. 

Neighbourliness  is  the  larger  part  of  life ;  we  are 
not  to  go  to  our  distant  ''  brother's  house  in  the  day 
of  our  calamity,  for  better  is  a  neighbour  that  is  near 
than  a  brother  far  off."  ^  Our  life  is  rich  and  true 
and  helpful  just  in  proportion  as  we  are  entwined  with 
those  who  live  around  us  in  bonds  of  mutual  respect 
and  consideration,  of  reciprocal  helpfulness  and  service, 
of  intimate  and  intelligent  friendship. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  there  is  neigh- 
bourliness and  neighbourliness.  Our  relation  to  our 
neighbours  may  be  that  of  mere  busybodies,  tattlers, 
and  whisperers;  it  may  be  devoid  of  tact  and  con- 
sideration :  there  is  need  therefore  of  a  warning  to 
"hold  back  thy  foot  from  thy  neighbour's  house  ;  lest 
he  be  sated  with  thee,  and  hate  thee."^  But  this  pos- 
sible abuse  does  not  affect  the  broad  and  salutary 
principle  :  we  are  meant  to  live  in  one  another ;  our 
nature  can  reahze  itself,  and  accomplish  its  mission, 
only  in  generous  and  noble  relations  with  those  who 
are  about  us.     The  home  is  at  the  foundation  of  all ; 

'  Prov.  xxvii.  lo.  -  Prov.  xxv.^17. 


xviii.  I.]  THE  EVIL   GF  ISOLATION.  245 


a  good  son  or  daughter  will  generally  make  a  good 
man  or  we^inan  ;  good  brothers  will  prove  good  citizens, 
good  sisters  good  ministrants  and  teachers  to  the  poor 
and  the  ignorant ;  good  fathers  will  be  the  best  rulers 
in  Church  and  State.  The  home  will  be  the  prepara- 
tion for  the  larger  life  of  the  town,  or  the  social  circle, 
or  the  state.  And  thus  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave 
no  man  should  live  alone,  but  every  one  should  be  a 
member  of  a  larger  body,  holding  a  definite  place  in 
a  system  or  organism,  depending  on  others,  with  others 
depending  on  him.  Nerves  should  run  through  the 
body  politic,  motor  nerves  and  sensory  nerves  ;  the 
joys  and  pains  of  a  community  should  be  shared, 
the  activities  of  a  community  should  be  united.  No 
one  should  live  to  himself;  all  should  live,  and  rejoice 
to  live,  in  the  great  co-operative  society  of  the  world, 
in  which  personal  interests  are  mutual  interests  and 
the  gains  of  each  are  the  gains  of  all. 

But  we  can  hardly  probe  to  the  depths  of  this 
Proverbial  Philosophy  without  becoming  aware  that 
we  are  touching  on  an  idea  which  is  the  mainspring 
of  Christianity  on  its  earthly  and  visible  side.  We 
seem  to  have  detected  in  all  the  preceding  discussion 
echoes,  however  faint,  of  the  Apostolic  teaching  which 
gave  practical  shape  and  body  to  the  work  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ. 

The  relation  of  Christ,  as  the  Son  of  God,  to  the 
human  race  as  a  whole,  immediately  opened  up  the 
possibility  of  a  world-wide  society  in  which  all 
nations,  all  classes,  all  castes,  all  degrees,  all  indi- 
vidualities, should  be  not  so  much  merged  as  distinctly 
articulated  and  recognised  in  a  complete  and  complex 
whole.      The    kingdom   of  heaven,    while    borrowing 


246  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

its  terminology  from  earthly  kingdoms,  was  unlike 
any  one  of  them  because  it  was  to  include  them  all. 
Into  that  kingdom  all  the  peoples,  nations,  and  lan- 
guages should  pass. 

The  Catholic  Church,  as  the  first  attempt  to  reahze 
this  grand  idea,  presented  for  a  time  a  certain  faint  and 
wavering  reflection  of  the  image  in  the  heavens.  The 
fault  of  seeking  the  unity  of  the  race  in  a  priesthood 
instead  of  in  the  people  was  of  course  a  fatal  one  to  its 
own  ultimate  success,  but  at  least  one  great  service  was 
rendered  to  humanity ;  the  idea  became  familiar  of  a 
Unity,  in  which  the  narrower  unities  of  the  family,  the 
social  circle,  and  the  nation  were  to  find  their  completion. 
And  when  the  intelligence  and  the  faith  of  men  broke 
with  the  Catholic  Church,  it  was  not  a  breach  with  the 
Catholic  idea,  but  merely  a  transition  to  a  nobler  and  a 
more  living  realization  of  the  idea.  At  present  the  idea 
is  daily  clearing  and  assuming  vaster  proportions ; 
humanity  is  seen  to  be  one ;  the  Great  Father  presides 
over  a  family  which  may  be  sundered,  but  cannot  be 
really  parted ;  over  a  race  which  is  divided,  but  not 
actually  separated. 

Strange  and  rapturous  have  been  the  emotions  of 
men  as  they  have  entered  into  the  realization  of  this 
idea,  and  the  thrill  of  their  vast  fellowship  has  passed 
through  their  hearts.  Sometimes  they  have  turned 
away  in  bitterness  of  revolt  from  the  Christian  Church, 
which  with  harsh  dogmatisms  and  fierce  anathemas, 
with  cruel  exclusiveness  and  sectarian  narrowness, 
seems  rather  to  check  than  to  further  the  sublime 
thought  of  the  One  Father,  of  whom  all  the  family  is 
named  in  heaven  and  in  earth.  But  whatever  justifica- 
tion there  may  be  for  complaint  against  the  Church, 


xviii.  1.]  THE   EVIL   OF  ISOLATION.  247 

\vc  cannot  afTord  to  turn  our  thoughts  from  the  Son  oi 
Man,  who  has  redeemed  the  race  to  which  we  belong, 
and  who,  as  the  Divine  Power,  is  alone  able  to  carry 
out  in  effect  the  great  conception  which  He  has  given 
us  in  thought. 

And  now  I  am  going  to  ask  you  for  a  moment  to 
consider  how  the  text  reads  in  the  light  of  the  work 
and  the  presence  and  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  who 
has  come  to  gather  together  in  one  those  that  are 
scattered  abroad. 

The  person  of  Christ  is  the  link  which  binds  all 
men  together ;  the  presence  of  Christ  is  the  guarantee 
of  the  union;  the  work  of  Christ,  which  consists  in 
the  removal  of  sin,  is  the  main  condition  of  a  heart- 
unity  for  all  mankind.  When  therefore  you  put 
your  trust  in  Christ,  and  your  sinful  nature  is  sub- 
dued, you  are  incorporated  into  a  body  of  which 
He  is  the  head,  and  you  must  pass  out  of  the 
narrow  self-life  into  the  broad  Christ-life ;  you  can  no 
longer  live  for  yourself  alone,  because  as  the  member 
of  a  body  you  exist  only  in  relation  to  all  the  other 
members.  "But,"  it  is  said,  "am  I  not  to  seek  my 
own  salvation,  and  then  to  work  it  out  with  fear  and 
trembling  ?  am  I  not  to  withdraw  from  the  world,  and 
to  labour  hard  to  make  my  calling  and  election  sure  ?  " 
In  a  certain  sense,  the  answer  to  that  question  is.  Yes. 
But  then  it  is  only  in  a  certain  sense ;  for  you  make 
sure  of  your  own  salvation  precisely  in  proportion  as 
you  are  really  incorporated  into  Christ,  and  are  made 
a  genuine  member  of  the  body  :  as  St.  John  says,  "  We 
know  that  we  are  passed  from  death  unto  life  because  we 
love  the  brethren,'^  and  "  if  we  walk  in  the  light  we  have 
fellowship  one  with  another,  and  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ 


248  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

cleanseth  us  from  all  sin."  We  work  out  our  salvation 
therefore  only  by  losing  the  self  in  others  ;  we  withdraw 
from  the  world  and  make  our  calling  sure,  just  as  our 
thoughts  become  identified  with  God's  thoughts,  and  as 
our  lives  are  passed  in  cheerful  and  victorious  service. 

If,  then,  on  the  ground  of  our  humanity  we  are 
cautioned  against  separating  ourselves,  because  by  so 
doing  we  set  our  teeth  against  all  sound  wisdom,  on 
the  ground  of  our  Christianity  we  must  be  warned  not 
to  separate  ourselves,  because  that  means  to  harden 
our  hearts  against  the  faith  itself.  When  we  say 
to  ourselves,  "We  will  live  our  Christian  life  alone," 
that  is  equivalent  to  saying,  "  We  will  not  Hve  the 
Christian  life  at  all."  We  do  not  know  what  the 
life  in  heaven  may  be,  —  though  from  the  casual 
glimpses  we  obtain  of  it,  we  should  say  that  it  is  a 
great  social  gathering,  at  which  we  shall  sit  down  with 
Abraham  and  all  the  saints  of  God,  a  kind  of  marriage 
festivity  to  celebrate  the  union  of  the  Lord  with  His 
bride, — but  it  is  plain  that  the  Christian  life,  as  it  is 
revealed  to  us  here,  must  be  the  life  of  a  community,  for 
it  is  likened  to  a  vine,  from  which  all  dead  branches 
are  cut  off,  and  plainly  all  cut-off  branches  are  dead. 

"But,"  say  many  people  amongst  us,  "we  put  our 
faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  we  trust  to  Him  ;  why 
should  you  impose  any  further  conditions  ?  "  Do  they 
put  their  faith  in  Him?  Does  not  faith  imply  obedi- 
ence ?  Did  He  not  require  His  disciples  to  be  united 
in  a  fellowship,  and  did  He  not  give  His  body  and  His 
blood  as  a  symbol  of  this  fellowship,  and  command 
them  to  take  the  symbols  in  remembrance  of  Him  until 
He  comes  ?  Are  these  isolated  believers  obeying  Him, 
or  are  they  not  cutting   at  the  root  of   His  glorious 


THE   EVIL    OF  ISOLATION.  249 


purpose  of  human  fellowship  in  the  Divine  Head  ? 
And  if  they  arc  thus  breaking  His  expressed  command- 
ment, lias  He  not  warned  them  that  He  will  say,  "  I 
never  knew  you,  depart  from  Me,"  although  they  have 
taught  in  His  name,  and  even  cast  out  devils  and  done 
many  wonderful  works  ? 

And  in  thus  reminding  you  of  our  Lord's  thought, 
I  am  not  speaking  only  of  what  we  call  the  fellowship 
of  the  Church  ;  for  there  are  many  who  are  merely 
nominal  members  of  the  Church,  and  though  their 
names  are  enrolled  they  *'  separate  themselves  "  and  live 
the  life  of  unhallowed  isolation,  just  as  they  did  before 
they  professedly  entered  into  the  Christian  society. 
This  is  a  larger  question  than  that  of  Church  member- 
ship ;  Church  membership  derives  its  vast  importance 
from  being  a  part  of  this  larger  question.  Will  you, 
therefore,  let  me  close  with  a  personal  appeal  addressed 
to  each  one  of  you  ? 

You  know  that  the  Son  of  Man  would  make  men 
one  ;  you  know  that  He  calls  His  disciples  into  a  holy 
family  of  mutual  love  and  service,  so  that  men  may 
know  that  they  are  His,  and  may  recognise  Him  because 
they  love  one  another.  Are  you  venturing  to  disregard 
His  commandment  and  to  frustrate  His  will  by  separat- 
ing yourself  for  your  own  desire  ?  have  you  fallen  out 
of  all  relations  with  His  family,  so  that  the  sonship, 
the  brotherhood,  the  friendship,  the  fatherhood,  the 
citizenship,  of  the  heavenly  kingdom  are  as  good  as 
meaningless  to  you  ?  If  so,  may  I  say  in  the  words 
of  the  text,  you  are  setting  "your  teeth  against  all 
sound  wisdom  "  ? 


XIX. 

HUMAN  FREEDOM. 

**  The  foolishness  of  man  subverteth  his  way  ; 
And  his  heart  fretteth  against  the  Lord." — Prov.  xix.  3. 

THERE  is  such  a  valuable  expansion  and  commen- 
tary on  this  proverb  in  the  book  of  Ecclesiasticus 
that  it  seems  worth  while  to  quote  it  in  full  :  "  Say  not, 
it  is  through  the  Lord  that  I  fell  away,  for  the  things 
He  hates  thou  shalt  not  do.  Say  not,  it  is  He  that 
;:aused  me  to  err,  for  He  has  no  use  for  a  sinful 
man.  Every  abomination  the  Lord  hates,  neither  is 
it  lovely  to  those  that  fear  Him.  He  Himself  at  the 
outset  made  Man,  and  left  him  in  the  power  of  his  own 
control,  that,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  shouldst  keep  His  com- 
mandments, and  to  do  faithfully  what  is  pleasing  to 
Him.  He  set  fire  and  water  before  thee,  that  thou 
shouldst  stretch  out  thy  hand  to  which  thou  wilt.  In 
front  of  men  is  life  and  death,  and  whichever  a  man 
pleases  shall  be  given  to  him.  Because  wide  is  the 
wisdom  of  the  Lord  ;  He  is  mighty  in  power,  beholding 
all  things;  and  His  eyes  are  upon  them  that  fear  Him, 
and  He  Himself  will  take  note  of  every  work  of  man. 
He  never  enjoined  any  one  to  do  wickedly,  and  He 
never  gave  to  any  one  licence  to  sin."  ^ 

It  is  our  constant  tendency  to  claim  whatever  good 

'  Eccles.  XV.  11-20. 


xix.3.]  HUMAN  FREEDOM.  251 


we  do  as  our  own  doing,  and  to  charge  whatever  evil 
we  do  on  causes  which  are  beyond  our  control, — on 
heredity,  on  circumstances  of  our  birth  and  upbringing, 
or  even  on  God.  The  Scriptures,  on  the  other  hand, 
regard  all  our  good  deeds  as  the  work  which  God 
works  within  us,  when  our  will  is  given  to  Him, 
while  all  our  evil  is  ascribed  to  our  own  foolish  and 
corrupt  \\\\\,  for  which  we  are,  and  shall  be,  held 
responsible.  This  is  certainly  a  very  remarkable 
contrast,  and  we  shall  do  well  to  take  account  of 
it.  It  is  not  necessary  to  run  into  any  extreme 
statement,  to  deny  the  effects  either  of  taints  in  the 
blood  which  we  receive  from  our  parents,  or  of  early 
surroundings  and  education,  or  even  the  enormous 
influence  which  other  people  exercise  over  us  in  later 
life ;  but  when  all  allowance  is  made  for  these  recog- 
nised facts,  the  contention  of  the  text  is  that  what  really 
subverts  our  lives  is  our  own  folly, — and  not  uncon- 
trollable circumstances, — and  our  folly  is  due,  not  to 
our  misfortune,  but  to  our  fault. 

Now  w^e  will  not  attempt  to  deal  with  all  the  modifi- 
cations and  reservations  and  refinements  which  in- 
genuity might  offer  to  this  doctrine ;  however  charity 
may  require  us  to  make  allowance  for  others  on  the 
ground  of  disadvantages,  it  is  questionable  whether  we 
help  them,  and  it  is  certain  that  we  weaken  ourselves, 
by  turning  attention  constantly  from  the  central  fact  to 
the  surrounding  circumstances  ;  we  will  therefore  try  to 
steadily  look  at  this  truth  of  Individual  Responsibility, 
and  lay  it  to  heart.  When  we  have  acquitted  ourselves 
of  blame,  and  have  obtained  a  discharge  in  the  forum 
of  our  own  conscience,  it  will  be  time  to  seek  other 
causes  of  our  guilt,  and  to  ''  fret  against  the  Lord." 


252  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

But  before  we  turn  inwards  and  appeal  to  our  own 
consciousness,  may  we  not  observe  how  absurd  it  is  that 
the  Lord  should  be  charged  with  responsibility  for  our 
sins  ?  What  do  we  know  of  the  Lord  except  that  He 
hates  and  abominates  sin  ?  It  is  as  the  Hater  of  sin 
that  He  is  revealed  to  us  in  ever-clearer  forms  from 
the  first  page  of  revelation  to  the  last.  But  more,  the 
most  powerful  proof  that  we  possess  of  His  existence 
is  to  be  found  in  the  voice  of  conscience  within  us ; 
we  instinctively  identify  Him  with  that  stern  monitor 
that  denounces  so  vigorously  and  unsparingly  all  our 
offences  against  hohness.  The  God  of  revelation  is 
from  the  first  declared  to  be  ''  He  who  will  by  no 
means  clear  the  guilty,  visiting  the  iniquity  of  the 
fathers  upon  the  children."  The  God  of  conscience  is 
by  the  very  nature  of  the  case  identified  with  the  un- 
compromising sentence  against  evil ;  is  it  not  then 
obviously  inconsistent  to  lay  our  sins  to  the  charge  of 
God  ?  We  are  more  assured  of  His  Holiness  than  of 
His  omnipotence  ;  we  cannot  therefore  bring  His  omni- 
potence to  impeach  His  holiness.  We  see  Him  as  the 
Avenger  of  sin  before  we  see  Him  in  any  other  capacity  ; 
we  cannot  therefore  bring  any  subsequent  vision  of 
Him  to  discredit  the  first.  It  is  surely  the  dictate  of 
plain  common  sense,  as  St.  James  says,  that  ''  God 
cannot  be  tempted  with  evil,  and  He  Himself  tempteth 
no  man  :  but  each  man  is  tempted,  when  he  is  drawn 
away  by  his  own  lust,  and  enticed.  Then  the  lust, 
when  it  hath  conceived,  beareth  sin  :  and  the  sin,  when 
it  is  full  grown,  bringeth  forth  death."  ^ 

Now  our  actual  responsibility  for  our  own  sins,  and 

^  James  i.  13-15. 


HUMAN  FREEDOM. 


253 


the  troubles  which  result  from  them,  will  perhaps  come 
out  in  the  clear  light  of  conscience,  if  we  regard  our 
conduct   in    the    following   way.     We    must    make    an 
appeal    to    consciousness.      There   are   actions  which, 
consciousness  tells  us,  rest  entirely  on  our  own  choice, 
and  concerning  which  no  sophistry,  however  ingenious, 
can  furnish  an  adequate  exculpation.      There  was  in 
these  cases,  as  we  well  remember,  the  plain  offer  of  an 
alternative  "  Fire  or  Water,  Life  or  Death."    We  knew 
at  the  time  that  we  were  equally  able  to  take  either  of 
them ;  we  felt    no    compulsion  ;  there  was,   it  is   true, 
a  great  tumult    of  conflicting  motives,    but  when    the 
motives  were  balanced  and   the  resulting  verdict  was 
declared,  we  were  perfectly  conscious  that  we  could,  if 
we  chose,  reverse  the  verdict  and  give  our  judgment 
against  it.     Our  first  deviations  from  truth,  from  purity, 
from    charity,  come    up  before    us   as  we   reflect ;  the 
struggle  which  went  on  survives  vividly  in  memory ; 
and  when  we  yielded  to  the  evil  power  we  were  con- 
scious at  the  time,  as  we  remember  still,  that  our  .will 
was  to  blame.     As  the  lie  glided  from  the  lips,  as  the 
unhallowed  thought  was  allowed  to  pass   into  act,  as 
the  rein  was  thrown  on  the  neck  of  the  evil  passion, 
we  knew  that  we  were  doing  wrong,  wx  felt  that  by  an 
adequate  exercise  of  the  will  we  could  do  right.     Cast 
your  eye  back  on  the  steps  by  which  your  character 
was  formed,  on  the  gradual  destruction  of  your  finer 
feelings,   on   the   steady  decline   of  your  spiritual,  in- 
stincts, on   the    slow  deadening  and    searing  of  your 
moral  sense.     Do  you  not  remember  how  deliberately 
you   submitted  to  the  fascinations   of   that    dangerous 
friend,   whom    your  conscience    entirely  disapproved  ? 
how    wilfully    you    opened   and   perused  the    pages  of 


254  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

that  foul  book,  which  swept  over  your  soul  like  a  mud- 
torrent  and  left  its  slimy  sediment  there  ever  after  ? 
how  you  consciously  avoided  the  influence  of  good  people, 
made  every  excuse  to  escape  the  pra3^er,  the  reading, 
the  sermon,  which  was  to  you  a  conscience-stirring 
influence,  an  appeal  of  God  to  the  soul  ? 

As  you  retrace  those  fatal  steps,  you  will  be  surprised 
to  discover  how  entirely  your  own  master  you  were  at 
the  time,  although  the  evil  deeds  done  then  have  forged 
a  chain  which  limits  your  freedom  now.  If  at  any  of 
those  critical  moments  some  one  had  said  to  you.  Are 
you  free  to  do  just  which  of  the  two  things  you  please  ? 
you  would  have  replied  at  once,  Why,  of  course  I  am. 
Indeed,  if  there  had  been  any  compulsion  to  evil,  you 
would  have  rebelled  against  it  and  resisted  it.  It  was 
really  the  complete  liberty,  the  sense  of  power,  the 
delight  in  following  your  own  desire,  that  determined 
your  choice.  The  evil  companion  persuaded,  your  con- 
science dissuaded,  neither  compelled ;  when  the  balance 
hung  even  you  threw  the  weight  of  your  will  into  the 
scale.  The  book ,  lay  open  ;  curiosity,  prurience,  im- 
purity, bade  you  read  ;  your  best  conviction  shamed  you 
and  called  you  away  :  when  the  two  forces  pulled  even, 
you  deliberately  gave  your  support  to  the  evil  force. 
The  solemn  voice  of  prayer  and  worship  called  you, 
moving  you  with  mystical  power,  waking  strange 
desires  and  hopes  and  aspirations  ;  the  half-mocking 
voice  of  the  earth  was  also  in  your  ear,  tempting,  luring, 
exciting,  and  when  the  sounds  were  about  balanced, 
you  raised  up  your  own  voice  for  the  one  and  gave  it 
the  predominance. 

Or  if  now  in  the  bondage  of  evil  you  can  no  longer 
realize    that    you    were    once    free,    you    can    look    at 


.]  HUMAN  FREEDOM.  255 


Others  who  are  now  where  you  were  then ;  notice  even 
when  you  try  to  tempt  your  younger  companions  into 
evil,  how  the  blush  of  shame,  the  furtive  glance,  the 
sudden  collapse  of  resistance,  plainly  proves  that  the 
action  is  one  consciously  determined  by  an  evil  choice  ; 
notice  how  your  first  blasphemies,  your  first  devil-born 
doubts,  suggestions,  and  innuendoes,  bring  the  pained 
expression  to  the  face,  and  raise  a  conflict  which  the 
will  has  to  decide.  In  this  appeal  to  consciousness  or 
to  observation  we  must  be  scrupulously  honest  with 
ourselves  ;  we  must  take  infinite  pains  not  to  garble 
the  evidence  to  suit  a  foregone  conclusion  or  to  excuse 
an  accomplished  fall.  I  think  we  may  say  that  when 
men  are  honest  with  themselves,  and  in  proportion  as 
they  are  pure  and  innocent,  and  not  yet  bound  hand 
and  foot  by  the  bondage  of  their  .own  sins,  they  know 
that  they  have  been  free,  that  in  the  face  of  all  cir- 
cumstances they  still  stood  uncommitted  ;  that  if  they 
yielded  to  temptation  it  was  their  own  ''  foolishness 
that  subverted  their  way." 

But  now  we  may  pass  from  these  inward  moral 
decisions  which  have  determined  our  character  and 
made  us  what  we  are,  to  the  ordinary  actions  which 
form  the  greater  part  of  our  everyday  conduct.  Here 
again  we  are  generally  inclined  to  take  credit  for  every 
course  which  has  a  happy  issue,  and  for  every  unfor- 
tunate decision  to  cast  the  blame  on  others.  We  are 
reminded,  however,  that  our  misfortunes  are  generally 
the  result  of  our  own  folly ;  we  are  too  impatient,  too 
hasty,  too  impetuous,  too  self-willed.  "  Desire  without 
knowledge  is  not  good,  and  he  that  hasteth  with  his  feet 
misseth  the  way."  ^    If  we  look  back  upon  our  mistakes 

'  Prov.  xix.  2. 


256  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

in  life,  it  is  surprising  to  see  how  many  were  due  to  our 
own  headstrong  determination  to  follow  our  own  way, 
and  our  complete  disregard  of  the  prudent  counsels 
which  our  wiser  friends  ventured  to  offer  us.  "  The  way 
of  the  foolish  is  right  in  his  own  eyes  :  but  he  that  is  wise 
hearkeneth  unto  counsel."  ^  "  Where  there  is  no  coun- 
sel, purposes  are  disappointed  :  but  in  the  multitude  of 
counsellors  they  are  established."  ^  "  Hear  counsel,"  is 
the  command  of  this  chapter,  "and  receive  instruction, 
that  thou  mayest  be  wise  in  thy  latter  end."  ^  "  Every 
purpose  is  established  by  counsel," — affairs  of  state, 
whether  civil  ^  or  military,  ^ — and  so  by  counsel  a 
man  is  made  strong  and  is  able  to  carry  out  the 
warfare  of  his  own  personal  life.^  It  is  well  for  us 
therefore  not  only  to  accept  counsel  which  is  proffered 
to  us,  but  to  be  at  pains  to  get  it,  for  it  often  lies, 
like  the  waters  of  a  well,  deep  down  in  a  man's 
mind,  and  requires  some  patience  and  skill  in  order 
to  elicit  it.^ 

Our  false  steps  are  due  to  a  rash  precipitancy  which 
prevents  us  from  looking  at  the  question  on  all  its  sides, 
and  learning  the  views  of  those  who  have  had  experience 
and  know.  The  calamities  which  befell  us  were  foreseen 
by  many  onlookers,  and  were  even  foretold  by  our 
friends,  but  we  could  accept  no  advice,  no  warning. 
And  while  therefore  it  is  perfectly  true  that  our  own 
judgment  was  not  sufficient  to  ward  off  the  evil  or 
prevent  the  faux  pas,  we  are  none  the  less  to  blame, 
our  own  foolishness  has  none  the  less  subverted  our 

'  Prov.  xii.  15.  ^  Prov.  xx.  18. 

*  Prov.  XV.  22.  ^  Prov.  xxiv.  5,  6. 
^  Prov.  xix,  20.  '  Prov.  xx.  5. 

*  Prov,  xi.  14. 


xix.  3.]  HUMAN  FREEDOM.  257 

way,  for  it  was  our  own  fault  that  we  refused  to  be 
advised,  it  was  our  own  incredible  folly  that  made  us 
form  so  wrong  an  idea  of  our  wisdom. 

Suppose  then  that  in  our  retrospect  of  life  and  in 
the  estimation  of  our  errors,  we  mark  off  all  those  sins 
for  which  our  conscience  duly  charges  us  with  direct 
responsibility,  and  all  those  blunders  which  might  have 
been  avoided  if  we  had  wisely  submitted  to  more  prudent 
judgments  than  our  own,  what  is  there  that  remains  ? 
Can  we  point  out  any  group  of  actions  or  any  kind  of 
errors  which  are  yet  unaccounted  for,  and  may  possibly 
be  charged  on  some  other  person  or  thing  than  our- 
selves ?  Is  there  yet  some  opening  by  which  we  may 
escape  responsibility  ?  Are  there  any  effectual  and  valid 
excuses  that  we  can  successfully  urge  ? 

Now  it  appears  that  all  these  possible  excuses  are 
netted  and  completely  removed — and  every  avenue  of 
escape  is  finally  blocked — by  this  broad  consideration  ; 
God  is  at  hand  as  the  wisest  of  Counsellors,  and  we 
might  by  simple  appeal  to  Him,  and  by  reverently 
obeying  His  commandments,  avoid  all  the  evils  and  the 
dangers  to  which  we  are  exposed.  So  far  from  being 
able  to  excuse  ourselves  and  to  lay  the  blame  on  God, 
it  is  our  chief  and  all-inclusive  fault,  it  is  the  clearest 
mark  of  our  foolishness,  that  we  do  not  resort  to  Him 
for  help,  but  constantl}^  ollow  our  own  devices  ;  that 
we  do  not  rely  upon  His  goodness,  but  idly  fret  against 
Him  and  all  His  ordinances.  ''  There  are  many  devices 
in  a  man's  heart,"  but  over  against  these  feeble,  fluctu- 
ating, and  inconsistent  ideas  of  ours  is  "  the  counsel 
of  the  Lord,  which  shall  stand." '  ^'  The  fear  of  the 
Lord  tendeth  to  life  :  and  he  that  hath  it  shall  abide 
*  Prov.  xix.  21. 

17 


258  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

satisfied;  he  shall  not  be  visited  with  evil."^  There 
is  a  way  of  life,  there  is  a  plain  commandment,  a 
law  of  God's  appointing :  "  He  that  keepeth  the  com- 
mandment keepeth  his  soul :  but  he  that  is  careless 
of  his  ways  shall  die."  ^  It  is  simply  our  own  care- 
lessness that  is  our  ruin ;  if  we  would  pay  the  slightest 
heed,  if  there  were  one  grain  of  seriousness  in  us, 
we  should  be  wise,  we  should  get  understanding,  and 
so  find  good  in  the  salvation  of  the  soul ;  ^  we  should 
not,  as  we  so  often  do,  ^'  hear  instruction,  only  to  err 
from  the  words  of  knowledge."  ^ 

We  may  wonder  at  the  strong  conviction  with  which 
this  truth  was  urged  even  under  the  Jewish  law  ;  it  may 
seem  to  us  that  the  requirements  then  were  so  great,  and 
the  details  so  numerous,  and  the  revelation  so  uncertain, 
that  a  man  could  scarcely  be  held  responsible  if  he 
missed  the  way  of  life  through  inadvertence  or  defective 
knowledge.  Yet  even  then  the  path  was  plain,  and  if 
a  man  missed  it  he  had  but  himself  and  his  own  folly 
to  blame.  But  how  much  more  plain  and  sure  is  every- 
thing made  for  us  !  Our  Lord  has  not  only  declared 
the  way,  but  He  is  the  Way  ;  He  has  not  only  given 
us  a  commandment  to  keep,  but  He  has  Himself  kept 
it,  and  offers  to  the  believing  soul  the  powers  of  an 
inward  life,  by  which  the  yoke  of  obedience  becomes 
easy,  and  the  burden  of  service  is  made  light.  He  has 
become  ''  the  end  of  the  law  to  every  one  that  believeth." 
He  has  made  His  offer  of  Himself  not  only  general,  but 
universal,  so  that  no  human  being  can  say  that  he  is 
excluded,  or  murmur  that  he  is  not  able  to  ''  keep  his 
soul."     His  word  is  gone  out  into  all  the  world,  and 

'  Prov.  xix.  23.      ^  Prov.  xix.  16.     '  Prov.  xix.  8.      ^  Prov.  xix.  27. 


xix.3.]  HUMAN  FREEDOM.  259 


while  they  who  have  not  heard  it,  being  without  a  law 
are  yet  a  law  unto  themselves,  and  are  responsible  by 
virtue  of  that  self-witness  which  God  has  given  every- 
where in  Nature,  in  Society,  and  in  the  conscience  of 
man,  how  can  we  sufficiently  emphasize  our  own 
responsibility,  to  whom  God  has  spoken  in  the  latter 
days  by  His  own  Son  !  Surely  ''  whoso  despiseth  the 
word  bringeth  destruction  on  himself."  ^ 

If  even  in  that  old  and  darker  dispensation  the  light 
was  so  clear  that  it  was  chargeable  to  a  man's  own 
folly  when  he  disobeyed, — and  "judgments  were  pre- 
pared for  scorners,  and  stripes  for  the  backs  of  fools,"  ^ 
— what  must  come  upon  us  who  have  the  clearer  light 
if  we  wilfully  and  foolishly  disobey?  The  counsel  of 
the  Lord  stands  sure  :  "  There  is  no  wisdom  nor  under- 
standing nor  counsel  against  the  Lord."  ^  No  authority 
of  wise  men,  no  sneers  of  wits,  no  devices  of  the 
clever,  can  in  the  least  avail  to  set  aside  His  mighty 
ordinance  or  to  excuse  us  for  disregarding  it.  "  The 
horse  is  prepared  against  the  day  of  battle  :  but  victory 
is  of  the  Lord."  ^  There  can  be  no  evasion,  no  escape. 
He  Himself,  by  His  own  invincible  power,  will  bring 
home  to  the  hearts  of  the  rebellious  the  evil  of  their 
rebellion,  and  will  send  the  cruel  messenger  against 
them.^ 

Does  it  not  behove  us  to  remember  and  to  consider  ? 
to  remember  our  offences,  to  consider  our  guilt  and 
the  Lord's  power  ?  Here  is  a  way  of  life  marked  out 
before  you,  and  there  is  the  way  of  death  ;  here  is  the 
water  held  out  to  you,  and  there  is  the  fire ;  and  you 

'  Prov.  xiii.  13.  ^  Prov.  xxi.  30.  ^  Prov.  xvii.  II. 

^  Prov.  xix.  29.  *  Prov,  xxi.  31. 


26o  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

may  choose.  The  way  of  life  is  in  the  Gospel  of  God's 
dear  Son ;  you  know  that  its  precepts  are  perfect, 
converting  the  soul,  and  that  Christ  Himself  is  holy, 
such  an  one  as  the  earth  never  bore  before  or  since ; 
you  know  too  that  this  Holy  One  came  to  give  His 
life  a  ransom  for  many,  that  He  invited  all  to  come 
unto  Him,  and  promised  to  all  who  came  everlasting 
life.  You  know  that  He  did  give  His  life  a  ransom, — 
as  the  Good  Shepherd  He  gave  Himself  for  the  sheep, 
and  then  took  again  the  life  which  He  laid  down. 
You  know  that  He  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for 
us,  and  that  His  saving  power  was  not  exercised  for 
the  last  time  years  and  years  ago,  but  this  very  day, 
probably  just  at  the  moment  that  I  am  now  speaking 
to  you.  The  way  is  plain,  and  the  choice  is  free ;  the 
truth  shines,  and  you  can  open  your  eyes  to  it ;  the  life 
is  offered,  and  you  can  accept  it.  What  pretext  can 
you  give  for  not  choosing  Christ,  for  not  coming  to 
the  truth,  for  not  accepting  the  life  ? 

Is  it  not  clear  to  you  that  if  you  refuse  Him  that 
speaketh,  and  your  way  is  thus  subverted, — as  indeed 
it  must  be, — it  is  your  own  folly  that  is  to  blame  ?  You 
fret  against  the  Lord  now,  and  you  charge  Him  foolishly, 
but  some  day  you  will  see  clearly  that  this  is  all  a  blind 
and  a  subterfuge ;  you  will  admit  that  the  choice  was 
open  to  you,  and  you  chose  amiss  ;  that  life  and  death 
were  offered  to  you,  and  you  preferred  death. 

If  any  question  might  be  entertained  about  those 
who  have  only  the  light  of  conscience  to  guide  them, 
and  have  not  heard  of  the  direct  relation  of  succour 
and  support  which  God  is  ready  to  give  to  those  who 
depend  upon  Him,  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  com- 
plete freedom  of  every  human  being,  who  hears   the 


xix.3.]  HUMAN  FREEDOM.  261 

message  of  the  Gospel,  to  accept  it.  You  may  put  it 
aside,  you  may  decline  to  accept  it  on  the  ground  of 
disinclination,  or  because  you  consider  the  historical 
evidence  insufficient,  but  you  will  be  the  first  to  admit 
that  in  doing  so  you  exercise  your  discretion  and 
consciously  choose  the  course  which  you  take. 

Nay,  leaving  all  metaphysical  discussion  about  the 
freedom  of  the  will,  I  put  it  to  you  simply.  Can  you 
not,  if  you  choose,  come  to  Christ  now  ? 

Oh,  hear  counsel  and  receive  instruction  :  is  not  the 
Spirit  pleading  with  you,  counseUing,  teaching,  warning 
you  ?  Do  not  harden  your  heart,  do  not  turn  away. 
Attend  to  Christ  now,  admit  Him  now,  that  you  may 
be  wise  in  3'our  latter  end.^ 

'  Prov.  xix.  20. 


XX. 

IDLENESS. 

"  After  the   autumn  gathering  the  slothful  does  not   plough ;   he 
asks  in  the  harvest,  and  there  is  nothing." — Prov.  xx.  4. 

WE  have  already  in  the  sixth  lecture  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  sluggard,  and  in  the  ninth  we 
have  seen  in  passing  that  diligence  in  work  is  enjoined 
by  the  teacher ;  but  we  must  give  a  more  concentrated 
attention  to  this  subject  if  we  would  reaHze  the  stress 
which  this  book  of  Wisdom  lays  on  work  as  the  grand 
condition  of  life  in  this  earnest  world.  They  who 
will  not  work  have  no  place  in  an  order  of  things 
which  is  maintained  by  work,  and  in  which  the  toil 
itself  is  the  great  discipline  of  character  and  the 
preparation  of  joy.  It  is  no  churlish  or  envious  spirit 
which  pronounces  a  doom  on  the  idle,  but  it  is  the 
very  necessity  of  the  case ;  that  idleness  which  in 
moments  of  excessive  strain  we  so  eagerly  covet  is,  if 
it  is  accepted  as  the  regular  and  continuous  state  of 
the  soul,  a  more  ruinous  and  miserable  curse  than  the 
hardest  labour.  By  a  law  which  we  all  break  at  our 
peril,  we  are  required  to  have  an  honest  end  and  a 
strenuous  occupation  in  our  life ;  and  v/e  are  further 
required  to  labour  diligently  for  the  end,  and  to  spare 
no  pains  to  achieve  it.     We  have  many  faculties  lying 


XX.  4-]  IDLENESS.  2G3 

dormant,  and  we  must  wake  them  into  activity  ;  we 
have  many  gifts  half  used  or  not  used  at  all ;  wc  must 
turn  them  all  to  account,  if  we  would  be  wholesome, 
happy,  and  in  the  true  sense  successful. 

First  of  all,  let  us  look  at  the  portrait  of  the  sluggard 
as  it  is  delineated  in  some  of  these  proverbial  sayings. 
We  see  him  in  bed,  at  the  board,  in  the  house,  out  of 
doors.  He  will  not  get  up  in  the  morning ;  he  turns 
from  side  to  side,  just  Hke  a  door  which  swings 
backwards  and  forwards  on  its  hinges,  but  of  course 
never  gets  any  further.^  "  Yet  a  little  sleep,"  he  says, 
"  a  little  slumber,  a  little  folding  of  the  hands  in 
sleep.""  Or  when  at  last  he  has  brought  himself  to 
get  up  and  to  sit  down  to  table,  he  is  too  lethargic 
even  to  eat :  "  He  buries  his  hand  in  the  dish,  and  will 
not  so  much  as  bring  it  to  his  mouth  again  ;  "  ^  or  if  he 
raises  the  morsel  to  his  lips,  he  does  it  with  an  air  of 
indescribable  languor  and  weariness.^  Then  the  time 
comes  for  him  to  go  out  to  his  daily  duties.  But 
he  has  a  number  of  ingenious,  though  utterly  absurd, 
excuses  why  he  should  not  leave  the  house  :  ''  There  is 
a  lion  in  the  streets,"  he  says,  ''a  lion  in  the  way  ;"^ 
'•  There  is  a  lion  without ;  I  shall  be  murdered  in  the 
streets."^  When  he  is  told  that  this  is  a  delusion,  he 
is  prepared  to  argue  the  matter,  and  to  show  that  his 
fear  is  well  grounded  ;  he  is  quite  scornful  of  all  the 
people  who  assure  him  to  the  contrary,  because  they 
have  been  out  and  seen  for  themselves  :  "The  sluggard 
is  wiser  in  his  own  eyes  than  seven  men  that  can 
render  a  reason."  ^     And  when  at  length  he  is  launched 

'  Prov.  xxvi.  14.  ^  Prov.  xxvi.  15.  ^  Prov  xxii.  13. 

*  Prov.  xxiv.  34.  *  Prov.  xxvi.  13.  ^  Prov.  xxvi.  16. 

'  Prov.  xix.  24. 


264  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

on  the  business  of  the  day,  arriving  late,  his  wits  gone 
wool-grthering,  his  will  as  inactive  as  his  mind  is 
inattentive,  he  drags  through  every  duty  with  the  air 
of  one  A^ho  is  walking  "through  a  hedge  of  thorns."^ 
Where  another  person  would  proceed  with  easy 
alacrity,  he  seems  held  back  by  invisible  obstacles ; 
his  garments  are  always  getting  caught  in  the  briars ; 
there  is  not  impetus  enough  to  carry  him  over  the 
slightest  difficulty  ;  and  after  frequent  and  somnolent 
pauses,  the  end  of  the  day  finds  him  more  weary  than 
the  busiest,  though  he  has  nothing  to  show  but  futile 
efforts  and  abortive  results. 

That  is  a  complete  picture  of  the  sluggard.  We  do 
not  of  course  see  him  fully  developed  very  often  ;  but 
we  recognise  at  once  the  several  tendencies  in  our 
own  characters — the  slothfulness,  the  Hstlessness,  the 
idle  procrastination,  the  inertia — which  may,  if  un- 
resisted and  unconquered,  gradually  bring  us  nearer 
to  this  finished  portrait. 

The  result  of  this  sluggishness  must  now  be 
sketched.  ''Love  not  sleep,"  we  are  told,  "lest  thou 
come  to  poverty ;  open  thine  eyes,  and  thou  shalt  be 
satisfied  with  bread."  ^  The  means  of  subsistence  in 
this  world  are  the  result  of  labour ;  toilers  win  them 
from  the  reluctant  earth  and  sea;  the  only  condition 
on  which  we  can  partake  in  them  is  that  we  should 
toil,  either  directly  in  producing  the  means  of  sub- 
sistence, or  indirectly  in  doing  for  the  producers 
helpful  service  for  which  they  are  willing  to  exchange 
the  fruits  of  their  labour.  One  who  sleeps  away  the 
golden  hours  of  work,  cast  by  slothfulness  into  a  deep 

'  Prov.  XV.  19.  ^  Prov.  xx.  13. 


XX..  4.]  IDLENESS.  265 

sleep,  has  no  claim  whatever  on  the  earth  or  the 
community  for  daily  food  ;  he  shall  suffer  hanger.^ 
And  if  by  craft  or  chance  he  is  able  to  get  his.  bread 
without  any  service  rendered  to  the  workers,  hre  shall 
suffer  from  a  soul-hunger  more  terrible  than  starva- 
tion— the  unutterable  ennui,  weariness,  disgust,  and 
self-loathing  which  an  idle  and  useless  life  inevitably 
produces. 

As  the  text  reminds  us,  there  is  an  alternation  of 
seasons.  There  is  a  time  to  plough,  when  the  earth 
has  yielded  her  full  autumn  fruits ;  there  is  a  time  to 
sow  ;  there  is  a  harvest.  If  a  man  is  too  lazy  to  plough 
at  the  right  time  and  to  sow  at  the  right  time,  his  fields 
will  of  course  give  him  no  crops  :  "  Slothfulness  catcheth 
not  his  prey."  ^  Nor  must  we  think  that  God  in  any 
grudging  spirit  has  ordered  this  law  of  the  seasons 
The  appetite  which  forces  us  to  labour,  because  "our 
mouth  craves  it  of  us,"  ^  the  apparent  rigour  with 
which  nature  requires  us  to  be  up  betimes  and  not 
to  let  the  opportunity  slip,  and  the  threat  of  poverty 
which  hangs  over  our  heads  if  we  neglect  her  require- 
ments, are  all  parts  of  a  beneficent  law, — the  law  that 
by  work  itself  our  life  is  sweetened  and  our  spirit  is 
developed.  They  are  not  to  be  congratulated  who, 
escaping  the  spur  of  appetite,  and  liberated  by  the 
toil  of  others  from  the  rigorous  edicts  of  nature 
which  require  the  laborious  ploughing  and  sowing,  are 
enabled  to  eat  the  bread  of  idleness.  The  hardest 
worker,  worn  to  the  bone  and  ill-remunerated,  is  really 
more  enviable  than  they.  The  abundance  of  food  is 
a  poor  equivalent  for  the  loss  of  discipline  which  the 

'  Prov.  xix.  15.  -  Prov.  xii.  27.  '  Prov.  xvi.  26. 


266  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

desire  of  food  was  designed  to  exact  through  honest 
and  earnest  work.  Men  come  to  us  and  say  in  effect, 
*'  Behold  after  the  autumn  gathering  we  did  not  plough, 
and  we  asked  in  harvest,  and  got  all  that  our  hearts 
desired,"  and  we  are  constrained  to  pity  rather  than 
to  congratulate  them.  It  is  not  good  for  men  to  sHp 
through  the  laws  of  God  and  nature  thus,  for  their 
chastisement  is  heavier  in  the  end  than  in  the  be- 
ginning. 

The  truth  of  this  appears  when  we  remember  that 
a  worse  result  of  slothfulness  than  poverty  is  the 
spiritual  rust,  decay,  and  degradation  which  slothful- 
ness itself  implies  :  ''  The  desire  of  the  slothful  killeth 
him,  for  his  hands  refuse  to  labour ;  "  ^  "  He  also  that 
is  slack  in  his  work  is  brother  to  him  that  is  a  de- 
stroyer." ^  It  is  indeed  a  strange  illusion  which  makes 
man  desire  idleness.  Idleness  is  ruin  ;  the  soul  rusts 
away  like  the  sword  in  Hudibras,  which — 

"...  ate  into  itself,  for  lack 
Of  something  else  to  hew  and  hack." 

It  is  death,  it  is  deadly ;  the  idle  soul  slowly  dies,  and 
spreads  destruction  around  it.  It  is  the  same  with  a 
country.  Idleness  is  its  ruin  :  whether  it  be  that  the 
generosity  of  nature  removes  the  necessity  of  work,  as 
in  the  South  Seas,  where  the  missionaries  find  one  of 
their  chief  difficulties  in  the  absolute  laziness  resulting 
from  the  softness  of  the  climate  and  the  fertiUty  of  the 
soil ;  or  that  the  vast  accumulations  of  wealth  procure 
idleness  for  its  possessors,  and  enforce  idleness  on 
thousands  of  the  unfortunate  unemployed, — the  melan- 

*  Prov.  xxi.  25.  ^  Prov.  xviii.  9. 


XX.  4]  IDLENESS.  267 

choly  result  ensues  in  the  enervation  of  manhood  and 
the  corruption  of  womanhood.  On  the  other  hand,  as 
Thucydides  observed  in  the  case  of  Attica,  a  rigorous 
chmate  and  a  niggardly  soil,  eliciting  all  the  energies  of 
the  people  in  order  to  improve  their  condition  or  even 
to  live,  have  been  found  favourable  to  the  development 
of  a  noble  nationality.  Slackness  of  v^ork,  from  what- 
ever cause  it  may  arise,  brings  its  victims  into  this 
sorrowful  kinship  with  the  destroyer. 

It  may  be  noted  that  the  idle,  whether  they  be  rich 
or  poor,  are  denominated  ''  vain  persons,"  and  sensible 
people  are  cautioned  solemnly  to  avoid  their  society, 
as  their  emptiness  is  contagious,  and  the  habits  which 
are  quickly  acquired  in  their  company  lead  straight 
to  ruin :  *'  He  that  tilleth  his  land  shall  have  plenty 
of  bread,  but  he  that  foUoweth  after  vain  persons  is 
void  of  understanding  ;  "^  "  He  that  followeth  after  vain 
persons  shall  have  poverty  enough."- 

The  truth  which  is  here  enforced  receives  ample 
illustration  in  our  own  society.  Two  centuries  ago 
Daniel  Defoe  defined  the  English  as  the  ''most  lazy 
diligent  nation  "  in  the  world.  Hard  work  is  common  ; 
idleness  is  equally  common.  Our  people  are  on  the 
whole  highly  gifted,  and  produce  rapidly  when  they 
give  their  attention  to  their  work  ;  but  we  seem  to  have 
a  strange  vein  of  dissoluteness  and  laziness  running 
through  us,  and  consequently  the  worst  and  most 
shameful  idleness  is  often  found  amongst  the  best  work- 
men, who  through  their  own  bad  habits  have  missed 
their  opportunities,  and  become  a  burden  to  themselves 
and  to  the  community.     In  no  country  is  the  leisured 

'  Prov,  xii.  II.  *  Prov.  xxviii.  19. 


268  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

class,  of  those  who  do  nothing  at  all,  or  pass  their 
aimless  days  in  a  round  of  engagements  which  are 
only  strenuous  idleness,  so  large ;  in  no  country  is  the 
unemployed  or  the  pauper  class  so  ruinously  great 
in  proportion  to  the  population.  Hence  this  curious 
paradox :  the  foreigner  hears  that  England  is  the 
richest  and  the  most  industrious  country  in  the  world  ; 
he  comes  to  our  shores  expecting  to  see  cities  of  gold 
and  fields  teeming  with  produce.  On  his  arrival  he 
becomes  aware  of  a  degrading  poverty  such  as  cannot 
be  matched  in  the  poorest  country  on  earth ;  he  finds 
a  vast  population  of  the  unemployed  rich  lounging  in 
the  streets  and  the  parks,  and  of  the  unemployed  poor 
hanging  about  the  doors  of  the  innumerable  drink- 
shops,  and  infesting  every  highway  and  byway  of  the 
country.  He  finds  the  land  of  the  agricultural  districts 
often  lying  idle  and  unproductive;  those  who  till  it 
untaught,  ill-fed,  and  discontented;  those  who  possess 
it  discontented,  though  well  fed  and  instructed.  Our 
subject  does  not  lead  us  to  inquire  into  the  deeper 
causes  of  these  anomalies,  but  it  leads  us  to  this  obser- 
vation :  we  are  a  ''  lazy  diligent  nation  "  because  we 
have  not  yet  learned,  or  have  forgotten,  that  the  thing 
most  to  be  dreaded  is  not  poverty,  but  idleness ;  and 
the  thing  most  to  be  desired  is  not  w^ealth,  but  strenuous, 
earnest,  and  useful  toil.  Our  desperate  and  eager  work 
is  not  for  the  work's  sake,  but  in  order  to  get  rich ; 
our  ambition  "is  to  be  idle  rather  than  to  be  employed, 
to  be  raised  above  the  necessity  of  labour  which  is  our 
health  by  the  possession  of  wealth  which  is  our  ruin. 
We  have  cherished  the  fatal  and  fooHsh  error  that  work 
was  degrading,  and  have  ranked  those  highest  who 
did  the  least.     **  Where  no  oxen  are,"  we  have  said  in 


XX.  4-]  IDLENESS.  269 

our  fastidious  way,  "  the  crib  is  clean,"  forgetting  the 
other  side  of  the  matter,  that  "  much  increase  is  by  the 
strength  of  the  ox."^  Thus  we  have  ignorantly  despised 
the  workers  who  make  us  rich,  looking  down  upon 
trade,  upon  business,  and  more  than  all  upon  manual 
labour;  and  have  with  strange  fatuity  admired  most 
those  who  were  most  useless,  whose  peculiar  boast 
would  be  that  they  never  did  a  day's  work  in  their 
lives. 

Happily  now  there  are  signs  of  a  revolution  in  our 
thought.  We  are  beginning  to  see  that  work  is  good, 
not  for  what  it  earns,  but  for  the  occupation  and  the 
training  which  it  gives  to  the  body  and  the  mind ; 
and  that  idleness  is  an  evil,  not  only  where  work  is  a 
necessity,  and  the  appetite  craves  it  of  us,  but  every- 
where and  under  all  circumstances.  In  useful  employ- 
ment we  find  our  life ;  in  the  sluggard's  life  we  see  our 
death. 

We  must  observe  then  the  good  effects  which  result 
from  honest  and  earnest  toil.  But,  first,  we  cannot 
help  noticing  what  an  important  place  is  here  given 
to  agriculture.  This  is  not  accidental  to  the  time  in 
which  the  book  was  written.  It  is  an  eternal  principle. 
Out  of  the  soil  comes  our  wealth  ;  by  the  soil  therefore 
we  live ;  and  accordingly  God  has  ordained  that  in  the 
tilling  of  the  ground  man  shall  find  his  wholesomest, 
sweetest,  and  most  strengthening  employment — that  no 
community  shall  inwardly  flourish  when  its  agricultural 
life  decHnes;  and  that  therefore  the  happiest  and 
soundest  society  will  be  that  in  which  the  largest  pro- 
portional number  are  engaged  in  producing  the  fruits 

'  Prov.  xiv.  4. 


270  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

of  the  earth,  and  are  directly  and  vitally  attached  to 
their  mother  soil.  ''  He  that  tilleth  his  land  shall  have 
plenty  of  bread."  ^  When  a  nation  is  in  the  case  of  the 
sluggard,  when  you  pass  by  its  fields  and  its  vineyards 
and  see  them  grown  over  with  thorns  and  nettles  and 
its  stone  walls  broken  down,  you  will  find  Pauperism 
coming  as  a  robber,  and  Want,  gaunt  and  hideous, 
stalking  through  the  land  Hke  an  armed  man.^  ''  Be 
thou  diligent,"  therefore  we  are  told,  "  to  know  the 
state  of  thy  flocks,  and  look  well  to  thy  herds  " — (take 
care  that  no  foolish  pride  or  negligence  prevent  you 
from  seeing  that  the  agricultural  life  is  properly  main- 
tained, for  it  is  the  only  sure  basis  of  prosperity) ; 
"-riches  are  not  for  ever,  and  even  the  government  of 
kings  does  not  endure  to  all  generations."  But  in  the 
sweet  ordinances  of  nature  the  great  Giver  provides 
His  unfailing  wealth  :  "  The  hay  is  carried,  and  imme- 
diately the  tender  grass  begins  to  grow  again,  and  even 
the  barren  mountains  yield  their  herbs  for  ingathering. 
The  lambs  appear  every  spring  with  their  wool  for 
our  clothing,  and  the  field  will  maintain  goats  equal 
in  value  to  its  own  price.  And  from  these  miraculous 
sources  of  eternal  reproduction  our  food  and  our  main- 
tenance are  to  be  drawn."  ^ 

Thus  at  the  foundation  of  all  industries  is  the 
agricultural  industry.  At  the  root  of  all  social  and 
economical  questions  is  the  land  question.  When  you 
wish  to  commend  diligence  and  to  discourage  idleness 
in  a  nation  that  is  "  lazy  diligent,"  the  first  thing  is  to 
inquire  into  the  condition  or  the  use  of  the  land.  The 
land  is  God's  gift  to  a  people.     English  land  is  God's 

^  Prov.  xxviii.  19.         ^  Prov.  xxiv.  30-34.         '  Prov.  xxvii.  23-27. 


XX.  4]  IDLENESS.  271 

gift  to  the  English  people.  If  it  is  misapplied,  ill-used, 
neglected  ;  if  it  does  not  produce  its  full  tale  of  wealth  ; 
if  it  does  not  support  its  full  burden  of  living  creatures, 
and  give  employment  to  its  full  number  of  hands,  we 
are  flying  in  the  face  of  God's  ordinances ;  we  must 
not  expect  to  prosper ;  His  gracious  will  is  frustrated, 
and  we  must  have  the  shame  and  sorrow  of  seeing 
our  million  of  paupers,  and  our  second  million  of  en- 
forced idlers,  and  our  myriads  of  lazy  cumberers  of  the 
ground,  and  our  whole  population  disorganized  and 
unsettled,  torn  with  the  frenzy  of  insane  work,  or 
gangrened  with  the  corruption  of  destroying  idleness. 
For  the  gifts  of  God  are  without  repentance,  and  the 
abuse  of  His  gifts  is  without  remedy. 

But  turning  now  to  the  good  effects  which  result 
from  honest  and  earnest  toil,  we  are  taught  to  distin- 
guish three  more  particularly — plenty,  power,  and 
personal  worth. 

Fi)'sf,  Plenty.  ''The  soul  of  the  sluggard  desireth 
and  hath  nothing,  but  the  soul  of  the  diligent  shall 
be  made  fat."^  Nor  must  we  think  that  diligence  is 
only  manual ;  it  is  also  mental.  It  implies  thought, 
forethought,  planning,  arranging.  We  have  a  con- 
trast drawn  between  the  really  diligent  man,  whose 
prudence  foresees,  and  whose  reflection  orders  his 
work  for  the  best  ends,  and  the  fussy,  unreflecting 
activity  of  one  who  is  always  busy,  but  never  accom- 
plishes anything.  It  is  only  the  diligence  of  the  first 
kind  that  leads  to  the  desired  end  ;  the  diligence  of 
mere  restlessness  is  not  much  better  than  idleness. 
We  learn  that  "  the  thoughts  of  the  diligent  tend  only 

*  Prov.  xiii.  4. 


272  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

to  plenteousness,  but  every  one  that  is  hasty  hasteth 
only  to  want."  ^  Effectual  labour  implies  thought ;  only 
a  wise  man,  with  all  his  faculties  brought  into  full  and 
harmonious  play,  can  work  with  any  good  result,  or  can 
thriftily  use  the  fruits  of  his  labour ;  a  foolish,  thought- 
less, witless  person  may  work  hard  and  earn  a  good 
deal  of  money,  but  it  is  gone  even  faster  than  it 
came.  Thus  "there  is  precious  treasure  and  oil  in  the 
dwelling  of  the  wise,  but  a  foolish  man  swalloweth  it  up."  ^ 
There  are  exceptions,  no  doubt ;  but  the  general  rule 
is  borne  out  by  experience,  that  they  who  honestly  and 
earnestly  use  the  gifts  of  mind  and  body  which  God 
has  given  them,  obtain  the  things  which  are  needful  in 
this  life,  if  not  to  overflowing,  yet  in  sufficiency ;  and 
where  means  fail  we  generally  have  to  admit  that  our 
own  industry  or  prudence  was  at  fault. 

Then,  secondly,  it  is  industry  rather  than  genius  which 
commends  us  to  our  fellow-men,  and  leads  us  to  positions 
of  influence  and  power  :  ''  Seest  thou  a  man  diligent 
in  his  business  ?  he  shall  stand  before  kings,  he  shall 
not  stand  before  mean  men  ;  "  ^  "  The  hand  of  the  dili- 
gent shall  bear  rule,  but  the  slothful  shall  be  put  under 
task-work." '*  It  is  this  golden  faculty  of  persistence, 
concentration,  diligence,  which  makes  every  great  ruler 
and  leader  of  men,  and  raises  even  the  very  ordinary 
person  out  of  the  drudgery  of  mere  task- work  into  the 
dignity  of  large  and  noble  and  delightful  toil. 

For,  thirdly,  it  is  diligence,  the  capacity  of  taking 
pains,  that  gives  to  a  man  his  actual  worth,  making 
him  compact  and  strong  and  serviceable  :  "  The  pre- 


*  Prov.  xxi.  5.  3  Prov.  xxii.  29. 

*  Prov.  xxi.  20.  *  Prov.  xii.  24. 


XX.  4-]  IDLENESS.  273 


cious  substance  of  men  is  to  be  diligent."^  It  is  the 
quality  itself  which  is  all  important.  The  greatest  gifts 
are  of  little  worth,  unless  there  is  this  guarantee  of 
the  conscientious  and  intelligent  employment  of  them. 
While  if  the  gifts  with  which  God  has  endowed  us  are 
of  the  simplest  order,  if  we  can  only  use  a  spade  or 
a  saw  or  a  broom  effectively,  that  faculty  diligently 
exercised  is  our  value  to  the  world ;  and  a  great  value 
it  is — greater  than  the  value  of  high  genius  which  is 
erratic,  unbridled,  undirected,  and  uncertain.  Of  every 
man  or  woman  in  this  world  the  highest  praise  which 
can  be  uttered  is  that  which  underlies  the  commenda- 
tion of  the  good  wife  :  "  She  looketh  well  to  the  ways  of 
her  household,  and  eateth  not  the  bread  of  idleness."  '^ 
There  is  the  epitome  of  all  trustworthy  and  honourable 
character. 

We  have  been  dwelling  all  this  time  on  a  simple 
virtue  of  a  very  mundane  type.  But  all  that  has  been 
said  may  be  immediately  raised  to  a  higher  plane  by 
one  observation.  Our  Lord  and  Master  was  diligent 
about  His  Father's  business,  and  has  left  on  record 
this  saying  :  "  I  must  work  the  works  of  Him  that  sent 
Me  while  it  is  called  to-day ;  for  the  night  cometh,  in 
which  no  one  can  work."  As  each  one  of  us  comes 
under  His  influence  and  passes  into  His  faith  and 
obedience,  the  joyful  seriousness  of  our  life-work 
deepens ;  it  is  lit  by  the  rich  glow  of  a  sunset  glory. 
We  want  to  do  diligently  what  our  hand  finds  to  do — 
to  do  it  earnestly  as  unto  the  Lord.  By  patient  and 
industrious  exercise  of  every  faculty  which  He  has 
given  us,  we  wish  to  be  prepared  for  any  task  which 

'  Prov.  xii.  27.  ^  Prov.  xxxi.  27, 

18 


274  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

He  may  appoint  here  or  hereafter.  Some  of  us  He 
only  apprentices  in  this  world  ;  and  according  to  the 
faithfulness  with  which  we  discharge  our  humble  and 
unnoticed  duties  will  be  the  service  to  which  He  will 
one  day  appoint  us.  Others  are  called  out  of  appren- 
ticeship into  the  rough  and  eager  work  of  the  journey- 
man, and  His  eye  is  always  upon  us  as  He  tries  us  to 
find  whether  we  may  ever  be  appointed  over  one,  or 
five,  or  ten  cities.  A  few  supreme  souls  have  been 
called  even  on  earth  to  shape,  to  create,  to  control  ; 
a  Paul,  an  Augustine,  a  Luther,  can  work  with  an 
emancipated  hand.  But  the  law  is  one  all  through 
the  workshops,  the  fields,  the  vineyards  of  our  Lord. 
The  diligent  shall  stand  before  Him,  and  the  slothful 
shall  be  shamed.  He  that  does  not  plough  will  not 
reap.  Wasted  opportunities  vanish  for  ever,  and  leave 
only  their  doleful  record  in  the  emasculated  and  nerve- 
less soul. 


XXI. 

WINE. 

"  He  that  loveth  pleasure  shall  be  a  poor  man  : 
He  that  loveth  wine  and  oil  shall  not  be  rich." 

Prov.  xxi.  17. 

THE  Septuagint  translation  has  an  interesting  addi- 
tion to  the  proverb  in  xii.  11.  After  '*  He  that 
tilleth  his  land  shall  have  plenty  of  bread,  but  he  that 
followeth  after  vain  persons  is  void  of  understanding," 
it  adds,  "  He  who  is  sweet  in  pastimes  of  wine-drink- 
ing shall  leave  dishonour  in  his  strongholds."  Drink- 
ing is  the  natural  opposite  of  hard  and  honest  work. 
When  the  love  of  it  takes  possession  of  a  man  he  is 
sure  to  become  a  useless  and  unproductive  member  of 
society.  A  drunken  people  are  in  the  end  an  incapable 
people  ;  their  wealth  declines,  their  industries  pass  over 
to  soberer  rivals,  their  qualities  of  brain  and  muscle 
gradually  disappear.  This  is  partly  owing  to  the 
deterioration  of  mind  and  body  which  results  from  the 
excessive  use  of  stimulants ;  but  it  is  still  more  due  to 
a  wider  cause  :  drinking  in  all  its  branches  is  indulged 
in  as  a  pleasure.  Why  do  we  not  admit  it  ?  why  do 
we  always  try  to  present  it  in  another  light,  saying 
that  it  is  for  health's  sake,  by  a  doctor's  orders  ;  or  for 
work's  sake,  by  a  proved  necessity  ?     Is  it  not  that  we 


276  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

are  secretly  conscious  of  taking  the  drink  because  we 
like  it  ?  We  know  it  is  a  self-indulgence,  and  we  are  a 
little  ashamed  of  it ;  and  as  self-indulgence  is  always 
fatal  in  the  long  run  to  all  the  habits  and  activities 
which  men  very  properly  honour,  we  should  dearly 
like  to  screen  it  under  a  decent  pretext  which  might 
preserve  our  self-respect.  We  know  quite  well  that 
"  he  that  loveth  pleasure  shall  be  a  poor  man ;  he  that 
loveth  wine  and  oil  shall  not  be  rich."  ^  Drinking  is 
after  all  only  a  pronounced  symptom  of  a  large  vice — 
self-indulgence. 

A  great  step  is  taken  when  we  have  learnt  to 
quietly  and  candidly  face  this  fact  :  we  drink,  as  a 
society,  as  a  nation, — each  of  us  drinks  in  public 
or  in  private, — simply  because  it  is  pleasant.  It  is  a 
habit  governed  by  one  supreme  and  absolute  law — we 
like  it.  We  know  quite  well  that  alcohol  is.  not  a  food ; 
that  is  proved  by  the  most  irrefragable  scientific  evi- 
"dence ;  and  if  in  alcoholic  drinks  there  are  certain 
nutritive  elements,  we  could  if  we  chose  secure  the 
benefit  of  them  without  any  admixture  of  alcohol.  We 
know  that  in  many  cases  the  alcohol  is  actually 
deleterious,  that  it  produces  specific  and  very  terrible 
diseases,  that  it  lowers  the  tone  of  the  whole  system 
and  makes  us  liable  to  all  kinds  of  secondary  troubles. 
We  may  urge  that  alcohol  is  a  medicine,  and  a  useful 
medicine ;  but  it  is  not  as  a  medicine  we  use  it.  If  a 
doctor  prescribes  castor-oil,  or  quinine,  we  throw  aside 
the  medicine  on  the  first  opportunity,  often  before  it 
has  done  its  work.  Alcohol  is  the  only  medicine  which 
we  continue  to  take  for  a  lifetime  because  the  doctor 

*  Prov.  xxi.  17. 


xxi.  17.]  WINE.  277 

prescribed  it  for  a  month.  Would  it  not  be  better 
then  to  clear  our  minds  of  cant,  and  to  set  the  whole 
matter  on  its  right  basis  ?  Intoxicants  are  drunk  as  a 
form,  as  the  most  universal  form,  of  self-indulgence. 
In  some  mysterious  way,  for  some  mysterious  reasons 
which  we  cannot  fathom,  they  gratify  an  instinctive 
appetite,  they  are  naturally  and  generally  attractive, 
they  exercise  a  spell  over  the  physical  system.  If  the 
taste  is,  as  some  people  say,  acquired,  it  was  acquired 
by  mankind  in  prehistoric  times,  and  is  part  of  our 
inherited  constitution  as  men.  For  instance,  Mr.  Gaule, 
a  police-court  missionary  in  Birmingham,  relates  a 
recent  experience,  one  out  of  many  in  his  fourteen 
years  of  labour.  A  young  married  woman,  twenty- 
eight  years  of  age,  died  a  shocking  death  from  drinking. 
Up  to  the  age  of  twenty-six  she  had  been  a  teetotaller, 
and  did  not  know  what  the  taste  of  drink  was.  She 
was  a  leading  member  of  the  Gospel  Temperance 
Mission,  and  sang  the  solos  at  the  meetings.  Then  she 
was  taken  ill,  the  doctor  ordered  brandy,  and  it  proved 
like  the  first  taste  of  blood  to  a  tame  tiger.  She  could 
never  again  be  kept  from  it,  and  at  last  it  killed  her. 
The  craving  there  must  have  been  in  the  very  blood. 

We  have  a  taste  for  these  intoxicants,  latent  or 
realized.  The  stimulating  influence  is  pleasant,  the 
narcotic  influence  is  pleasant.  The  immediate  effect 
on  the  body  is  pleasant,  the  immediate  effect  on  the 
mind  is  pleasant.  Drink  produces  a  sense  of  great 
self-satisfaction,  promotes  a  flow  of  conversation  and  a 
feeling  of  good  fellowship ;  it  quickens  at  first  several 
of  our  mental  faculties ;  it  excites  the  imagination,  and 
carries  its  devotee  far  away  from  the  actual,  which  is 
painful  and  harassing,  into  a  kind  of  ideal  world,  which 


278  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

is  cheerful  and  agreeable.  So  powerful  is  its  tempo- 
rary influence  that  in  the  ''words  of  King  Lemuel" 
there  is  positively  a  recommendation  to  ''give  strong 
drink  unto  him  that  is  ready  to  perish,  and  wine  unto 
the  bitter  in  soul ;  let  him  drink  and  forget  his  poverty, 
and  remember  his  misery  no  more."^  An  injunction 
which  must  not  of  course  be  mistaken  for  a  Divine 
precept,  but  only  for  a  reminder  of  the  fact — a  fact 
which  may  be  observed  without  any  moral  judgment 
being  passed  upon  it — that  while  men  who  require  all 
their  mental  and  moral  faculties  to  be  in  full  activity  ^ 
must  eschew  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks,  the  dying, 
the  despairing,  the  very  poor  and  miserable,  may  find 
a  certain  relief  in  drinking.  Men  who  are  in  the 
enjoyment  of  health,  and  wish  to  discharge  effectively 
the  day's  duties,  have  no  excuse  for  the  employment  of 
an  agent  which  only  serves  to  lull  the  mind  into  for- 
getfulness  and  to  reduce  the  pain  of  consciousness  to 
the  lowest  possible  point. 

Strange  to  say,  while  men  are  thus  naturally  inclined 
to  use  intoxicants,  nature  has  been  most  lavish  in 
pandering  to  their  tastes.  There  are  trees  in  tropical 
climates  which  have  but  to  be  gashed,  and  an  intoxi- 
cating juice  flows  out  ready  at  once  for  use.  Almost 
every  natural  juice  ferments  if  it  is  left  alone.  The 
palm-tree,  the  potato-plant,  the  sugar-cane,  beet-root, 
the  cereals,  as  well  as  the  grape,  yield  readily  these 
intoxicating  drinks,  at  a  surprisingly  low  cost.  Very 
little  human  labour  is  needed,  very  simple  apparatus 
will  suffice,  so  that  a  very  few  enterprising  firms  can 
deluge  a  whole  continent  with  fiery  intoxicants. 

*  Prov.  xxxi.  6,  7.  "  Prov.  xxxi.  4,  5. 


xxi.  17.]  WINE.  279 


We  drink  because  we  like  it, — not  for  our  good,  as 
we  pretend,  but  for  our  pleasure,  as  we  are  half  ashamed 
to  confess.  The  taste  is  natural  to  us, — natural  to 
savages,  natural  to  civilised  men,  natural,  so  far  as 
we  know,  to  men  of  all  climates  and  all  races.  And 
nature  has  made  it  singularly  easy  to  gratify  the  taste. 

Now  one  might  almost  suppose  that  the  conclusion 
to  be  drawn  would  be,  "  Let  us  drink,  let  us  take  this 
element  as  a  good  gift  of  God."  And  that  was  the  feel- 
ing of  more  primitive  times.  In  the  Vedas,  for  instance, 
Indra  is  praised  as  reeling  with  the  intoxicating  Soma 
which  his  worshippers  have  offered  to  him  ;  drunken- 
ness is  regarded  as  a  kind  of  inspiration.  But  no ; 
as  wisdom  asserts  herself,  and  demands  a  hearing,  she 
more  and  more  decisively  classes  this  taste  for  intoxi- 
cants with  certain  other  tastes  which  are  natural  to 
us,  but  none  the  less  dangerous ;  and  she  treats  the 
bountiful  provision  which  nature  has  made  for  the 
gratification  of  the  taste  as  one  of  those  innumerable 
temptations  with  which  men  in  this  present  life  are 
surrounded, — in  conflict  with  which  they  prove  their 
manhood, — by  victory  over  which  they  acquire  strength 
of  moral  principle  and  consistency  in  virtue. 

As  the  reason  within  gathers  power  and  authority, 
and  as  her  clear  light  is  replenished  by  the  revelation 
of  Divine  Wisdom,  all  the  spurious  attractions  of 
drinking  are  weakened,  the  glamour  is  destroyed,  and 
the  truth  is  recognised  that  '^  wine  is  a  mocker,  strong 
drink  a  brawler,  and  whosoever  erreth  thereby  is  not 
wise ;  "  ^  more  and  more  it  appears  that  the  power  of 
wine  is  the  power  of  the  animal  within  us,  and  that  the 

'  Prov.  XX.  I. 


28o  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

widespread  influence  of  it  is  a  sign  that  the  animal 
within  us  dies  slowly ;  we  learn  to  measure  the  growth 
of  reason  by  the  degree  of  mastery  which  has  been 
obtained  over  the  low  appetite ;  and  we  understand 
that  striking  antithesis  of  the  New  Testament  religion, 
''  Be  not  drunk  with  wine,  wherein  is  excess,  but  be 
filled  with  the  Spirit." 

The  way  then  in  which  we  are  brought  to  look  at 
the  drink  question  is  this  :  here  is  a  powerful  natural 
temptation,  a  seduction  which  nature  herself  offers  to  the 
body,  a  foe  which  always  has  a  traitor  in  collusion  with 
it  inside  the  assaulted  citadel.  This  enemy  is  ingenious 
in  its  argumentation :  it  approaches  usually  under  the 
guise  of  a  friend ;  it  says — and  not  without  truth — that 
it  comes  to  give  pleasure  to  poor  harassed  and  toil- 
worn  mortals  ;  it  persuades  them  that  it  is  a  wholesome 
food,  and  when  that  contention  is  shattered  it  would 
have  them  believe  that  it  is  a  medicine.  When  it  has 
gained  an  entrance  into  the  fortress,  by  fair  means  or 
foul,  it  at  first  proceeds  very  doucely,  and  seems  to 
justify  its  presence  by  numberless  obvious  benefits. 
Sometimes  it  will  successfully  hide  all  the  evil  it  is 
working,  as  if  its  purpose  were  to  beguile  new  victims 
and  to  acquire  a  more  unbounded  sway  over  the  old. 

As  religious  men,  as  spiritual  beings,  whom  God 
claims  to  become  His  children,  we  are  called  upon  to 
face  this  subtle,  powerful,  and  all-persuasive  foe.  We 
are  to  do  our  best  to  understand  its  ways — we  look  to 
science  to  help  us  and  to  teach  us.  We  are  then  to  take 
every  weapon  within  our  reach  to  resist  its  approach, — 
argument,  persuasion,  entreaty  ;  we  are  to  lose  no  oppor- 
tunity of  unveiling  the  tactics  of  the  foe,  and  rousing 
those  who  are  imperilled  to  a  sense  of  their  danger  ; 


xxi.  17.]  WINE.  281 

then  as  Christian  citizens  we  are  bound  to  use  all  the 

influence  we  possess  to  hold  this  terrible  natural  temp- 
tation within  the  straitest  limits,  and  to  fortify  all  the 
powers  of  resistance  in  our  fellow-men  to  the  highest 
possible  degree. 

In  such  a  crusade  against  the  enemy  of  our  race,  few 
things  are  more  eftectual  than  a  vivid  and  accurate 
delineation  of  the  effects  which  drink  produces — such  a 
delineation,  for  instance,  as  that  which  is  given  in  chap. 
xxiii.  29-35.  Let  us  proceed  to  examine  this  remarkable 
passage. 

"  Whose  is  Oh  ?  whose  is  woe  ?  "  asks  the  Teacher. 
Who  is  it  whose  constant  and  appropriate  language  is 
that  of  lamentation — the  piteous  cry  of  pain,  the  agonised 
exclamation  of  remorse?  "Whose  are  contentions?" 
Who  is  it  that  lives  in  an  atmosphere  of  perpetual  strife 
and  loud  quarrellings  ?  "  Whose  is  groaning  ?  " — that 
sustained  sigh  of  desponding  and  irremediable  misery. 
"  Whose  are  causeless  wounds  ?  " — not  only  the  bruise 
and  the  gash  which  result  from  furious  sparrings  or  un- 
foreseen falls,  but  also  wounds  of  the  spirit,  self-loathing, 
and  shame,  the  thought  of  what  might  have  been,  the 
realization  of  a  ruined  home,  and  of  suffering  wife  and 
little  ones,  and  the  conviction  that  the  evil  can  now 
never  be  undone.  "  Whose  is  the  darkling  of  the 
eyes  ? "  ^  Who  is  it  whose  eyes  have  that  horrible 
inflamed,  lack-lustre  look,  which  is  the  exact  opposite 

'  The  difficulty  of  the  word  n-1?/?n^  which  means  "dimming,"  is 
that  in  the  only  other  place  where  it  occurs  (Gen.  xlix.  12:  "His 
eyes  shall  be  red  with  wine,  and  his  teeth  white  with  milk")  the 
redness  is  evidently  regarded  as  an  advantageous  attribute.  But 
perhaps  the  explanation  is  to  be  sought  in  the  fact  that  the  immediate 
eflfect  of  wine   upon  the  eye  is  to  darken  it  in  one  gensc,  and  the 


282  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS, 

of  the  light  and  clearness  and  sparkle  proper  to  the 
human  eye  ? 

The  answer  to  these  questions  is  given  in  a  sentence, 
"  Theirs  who  tarry  over  the  wine,  theirs  who  go  to  try 
the  mixture."  It  is  not  of  course  suggested  that  all 
who  drink  wine,  nor  even  all  who  take  it  habitually, 
fall  into  the  horrible  condition  which  has  just  been 
described ;  this  condition  is  the  result  of  lingering  over 
the  drink,  spending  hours  in  tippling,  devoting  time  and 
thought  to  tasting  various  brands  and  samples,  becoming 
a  connoisseur  of  strong  beverages,  allowing  the  subject 
to  occupy  an  appreciable  proportion  of  one's  time.  It 
is  not  the  use,  but  the  abuse,  of  the  thing  which  in  this 
passage  is  reprobated.  But  now  we  are  reminded  of 
the  great  difficulty  which  occurs  in  distinguishing 
between  the  use  and  the  abuse.  There  is  no  sharply- 
defined  limit.  There  is  no  mechanical  monitor  which 
at  once  reminds  us,  "  Here  use  ceases  and  abuse  begins." 
Almost  the  only  rule  that  can  be  given  is,  that  whenever 
the  cup  seems  in  the  least  degree  attractive,  then  danger 
is  near  and  it  is  necessary  to  abstain.  ''  Look  not  on 
wine  when  it  reddens,  when  it  gives  its  gleam  in  the 
cup  ;  it  goes  down  so  smoothly ! "  It  is  the  peculiarity 
of  this  substance  that  it  can  only  be  taken  safely  when 
it  has  comparatively  no  attractions,  when  it  is  taken 
under  orders,  and  as  it  were  against  the  grain.  If 
it  is  really  pleasant  to  us,  we  can  never  tell  where 
the  pleasantness  melts  into   a  dangerous   fascination, 

ultimate  effect  is  to  darken  it  in  another.  In  the  first  moment  of 
excitement  the  pupil  of  the  drinker's  63^0  dilates  and  flashes  with  a 
darkling  fire ;  but  it  is  not  long  before  the  eye  becomes  heavy,  dim, 
watery,  and  maudlin.  It  is  in  this  last  sense  that  we  must  understand 
the  word  here. 


xxi.  17.]  IVINE.  283 

where  the  colour  and  the  sparkle  and  the  agreeable 
tingle  which  make  it  pass  so  easily  down  the  throat 
have  become  the  lure  and  the  spell  of  a  poisonous  reptile. 
For  this  pleasant  indulgence,  which  seems  to  be  perfectly 
innocent,  what  is  the  issue  of  it?  "Its  end — like  a 
serpent  it  bites,  and  like  a  basilisk  it  stings."  One  evil 
result  of  it  is  that  it  rouses  into  perilous  activity  the 
dormant  passions ;  even  pure  men  and  women  under 
this  potent  influence  become  impure.  The  eyes  which 
are  excited  with  wine  will  turn  readily  to  loose  and 
degraded  women. ^  The  fall  which  might  have  been 
easily  avoided  in  a  state  of  sobriety  will  be  inevitable 
when  the  reason  is  silenced,  the  will  enfeebled,  and  the 
desire  inflamed  by  this  seductive  poison. 

Another  evil  effect  is  that  the  sense  of  truth  entirely 
disappears.  What  a  misleading  maxim  is  that  of  the 
Romans,  In  vino  Veritas !  While  it  is  a  fact  that  the 
intoxicated  man  will  blab  many  things  which  were  best 
kept  concealed,  there  is  nothing  which  deteriorates 
truthfulness  so  rapidly  as  the  use  of  alcohol.  The 
drinker  becomes  crafty  and  deceitful  and  untrustworthy. 
The  miserable  brain  is  haunted  with  chimaeras,  the 
imperious  appetite  suggests  all  kinds  of  subterfuges 
and  evasions,  the  very  ''heart  speaks  frauds."  Yes, 
nothing  could  be  more  accurate  than  this  :  the  effect 
of  drink  is  not  so  much  to  make  the  lips  lie,  as  to  make 
the  inner  man  essentially  insincere  and  deceptive.  No 
man  admits  that  he  is  a  drunkard,  even  to  his  own 

Prov.  xxiii.  2)2i'  T\T\\  must,  as  in  xxii.  14,  be  rendered  "  strange 
women  "  (Bertheau).  The  alternative  rendering,  "the  strange,  or  the 
rare  "  (Nowack)  is  logically  inadmissible,  because  the  verse  is  obviously 
describing  the  moral  eflects  of  drink,  and  no  one  can  say  that  to  see 
strange  or  rare  visions  is  a  moral  effect  to  be  specially  deprecated. 


284  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

heart ;  long  after  all  his  friends  know  it,  and  are  begin- 
ning to  despair  of  him,  even  when  he  has  had  several 
attacks  of  delirium  tremens  and  is  a  confirmed  dipso- 
maniac, the  most  he  will  allow  is  that  he  has  sometimes 
taken  a  little  more  than  is  good  for  him,  but  so  very 
little  seems  to  upset  him.  Ah,  "  thine  heart  shall  utter 
fro  ward  things,"  i.e.,  frauds.  Every  one  who.  has  had 
any  dealings  with  the  miserable  victims  of  drink  will 
sorrowfully  confirm  this  statement. 

The  insecurity  of  the  habit  is  incredible.  It  leads 
to  the  destruction  of  every  faculty  which  God  has 
mercifully  given  us  to  protect  us  from  danger  and 
guide  us  through  life.  The  ready  perception  of  things 
is  marred,  the  quick  rallying  of  the  attention  is  delayed, 
the  exercise  of  the  understanding  is  prevented,  the  will 
is  paralysed,  the  conscience  dies.  "  Thou  shalt  be  as  he 
who  lieth  down  in  the  heart  of  the  sea," — as  one  in  a 
calenture  who  strides  into  the  merciless  waves  under 
the  impression  that  he  is  walking  on  flowery  meadows. 
Thou  shalt  be  ''  as  he  that  goeth  to  bed  on  the  mast's 
head," — where  the  position  is  precarious  even  if  the  sea 
be  perfectly  calm,  but  becomes  sure  destruction  if  the 
winds  awake  and  the  ship  begins  to  climb  large  billows 
and  to  plunge  down  into  their  unquiet  troughs. 

And  then,  worst  of  all,  when  there  is  a  temporary 
recovery  from  this  abominable  state  of  drunkenness, 
and  the  feeble  wails  of  repentance  begin  to  be  heard, 
what  can  be  more  disconnected — more  futile — more 
abject — more  irrational  than  his  words  ?  "  They  have 
smitten  me,"  he  says;  "I  have  not  been  sick," — as  if 
forsooth  he  were  the  victim  of  some  violence  offered 
to  him  by  others,  instead  of  being  the  author  of  his 
own  stripes  ;  as  if  he  were  quite  right  and  well,  and  the 


1 7.]  WINE.  285 


disease  were  not  deep  in  his  own  passion-haunted 
heart.  "  They  have  stricken  me,"  he  continues  to 
whine,  "  I  have  not  known  it."  Footpads  have  attacked 
him,  he  would  have  us  believe,  and  that  is  the  ex- 
planation of  his  begrimed  and  blood-smeared  face,  his 
torn  clothes,  and  his  empty  pockets.  "When  shall  I 
awake  ?  "  he  mutters,  as  the  swimming  sensation  in  the 
head,  and  the  unsteady  stagger  in  his  step,  remind  him 
that  he  is  not  quite  himself.  And  then — is  it  possible  ? 
Yes,  his  next  remark  is,  "  I  will  seek  it  again."  I  will 
go  and  get  another  drink.  His  miserable  mind,  the 
victim  and  the  mint  of  lies,  having  persuaded  him  that 
all  the  mischief  came  from  some  cause  other  than  him- 
self, and  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  one  degrading 
habit  which. really  produced  it,  he  proposes  at  once  to 
seek  the  very  agent  which  is  his  undoing,  to  heal  his 
intoxication  by  getting  drunk  again.-^ 

This  vivid  and  forcible  picture  of  the  miserable 
sufferings,  the  contemptible  vices,  and  the  helpless 
bondage  which  result  from  intoxicating  drinks,  is  all 
the  more  impressive  because  there  is  no  attempt  made 
to  enforce  total  abstinence  as  a  principle.  If  however 
it  is  duly  considered  and  understood,  it  is  very  likely  to 
produce  total  abstinence  as  a  practice,  just  as  the  object 
lesson  of  the  I "  unken  helot  led  every  Spartan  youth  to 
turn  with  unspeakable  loathing  from  the  embruting  vice. 
Modest  minds,  observing  how  the    mighty  are  fallen, 


'  "  The  primary  discomforts  of  an  act  of  drunkenness,"  says  Dr. 
G.  W.  Balfour,  "  are  readily  removed  for  the  time  by  a  repetition  of 
the  cause.  Thus  what  has  been  an  act  may  readily  become  a  habit, 
all  the  more  readily  that  each  repetition  more  and  more  enfeebles 
both  the  will  and  the  judgment." — Art.  "  Drunkenness  "  in  Eucycl. 
Brit. 


286  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

how  this  one  cause  has  ruined  the  strongest,  the  best, 
and  the  most  attractive  of  their  fellow-creatures,  in- 
sidiously leading  them  on,  mocking  them,  and  luring 
them  into  dangerous  and  poisonous  marshes,  will  be 
inclined  to  say,  as  Daniel  said,  ''  I  will  abstain  ;  I  may 
be  safe  or  I  may  not ;  if  I  am  safe  all  I  gain  is  a  certain 
amount  of  animal  pleasure ;  if  I  am  not,  what  I  lose  is 
health,  honour,  wealth,  even  life  itself, — not  the  body 
only,  but  the  soul  too.'  The  gain  from  the  use  of  these 
things  is  very  measurable  and  insignificant;  the  loss 
from  their  abuse  is  immeasurable,  and  the  passage 
from  use  to  abuse  escapes  at  once  our  observation  and 
control. 

But,  after  all,  wisdom  urges  temperance  in  drinking 
only  as  a  part  of  a  much  larger  principle.  If  temper- 
ance in  drinking  stands  alone  and  unconnected  with 
this  larger  principle,  it  is  a  blessing  of  a  very  doubtful 
kind,  so  doubtful  indeed  that  the  pharisaism,  the  in- 
tolerance, the  dogmatism,  which  are  able  to  subsist 
with  "Temperance"  in  the  Hmited  sense,  have  often 
been  the  most  serious  hindrance  to  temperance  in  its 
larger  and  nobler  meaning. 

It  is  the  desire  of  pleasure  which  is  at  the  root  of 
the  mischief:  ''He  that  loveth  pleasure  shall  be  a  poor 
man."  Men  are  ''  lovers  of  pleasure  rather  than  lovers 
of  God."^  The  appetites  which  are  natural  to  us  hold 
undisputed  sway,  they  are  fleshly ;  the  great  spiritual 
appetites,  which  are  supernatural,  are  quite  feeble  and 
inoperative.     Men  ask  for  that  which  is  pleasant,  and 

^  2  Tim.  iii.  4 — (pCKrjbovoi  fidWov  7)  (piXodeoi,  pleasure-loving  rather 
than  God-loving;  which  means,  not  that  men  place  pleasure  before 
them  consciously  as  a  substitute  for  God,  but  only  that  the  instinctive 
desire  of  pleasure  has  not  been  mastered  by  the  love  of  God, 


xxi.  17.]  WINE.  2S7 


even  when  they  become  reHgious  it  is  only  to  obtain 
pleasure,  a  greater  and  a  more  lasting  pleasure  ;  thus 
there  is  an  intemperance,  which  we  call  fanaticism,  even 
in  religious  beliefs  and  in  religious  practices.  But 
what  men  need  is  that  the  desire  of  God,  for  His  own 
sake,  should  be  so  inflamed  in  them  as  to  burn  up  all 
other  desires.  And  this  desire  can  only  be  created  by 
His  Holy  Spirit.  The  competing  and  manifold  desires 
of  pleasure  can  only  be  mastered  and  expelled  when 
that  great,  absorbing,  and  embracing  desire  of  God 
has  been  securely  settled  in  the  human  heart  by  the 
Holy  Spirit.  True  temperance  is  really  one  of  the 
ninefold  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  and  is  of  little  value,  a 
mere  spurious  product,  unless  it  is  accompanied  by 
love,  joy,  peace,  longsuffering,  kindness,  goodness, 
faithfulness,  and  meekness.  Such  passages  as  we 
have  been  considering  in  the  book  of  Proverbs  may 
give  us  a  wholesome  horror  and  hatred  of  drunkenness, 
and  may  even  lead  us  to  a  prudential  temperance — 
they  may  even  make  us  as  sober  as  pious  Mohamme- 
dans or  Buddhists ;  but  if  we  are  to  become  really 
temperate  a  higher  power  must  intervene,  we  must 
be  "  born  of  the  Spirit."  Is  it  not  remarkable  how 
nothing  short  of  the  highest  remedy — the  new  birth — 
is  effectual  for  curing  even  the  slightest  of  human 
infirmities  and  sins  ? 


XXII. 

THE    TREATMENT    OF    THE    POOR. 

"The  rich  and  the  needy  meet  together ;  the  Lord  is  the  maker  of 
them  all." — Prov.  xxii.  2. 

"  He  that  hath  a  bountiful  eye  shall  be  blessed,  for  he  giveth  of  his 
bread  to  the  poor." — Prov.  xxii.  9. 

"  He  that  oppresseth  the  poor,  it  is  for  his  increase ;  he  that  giveth 
to  the  rich,  it  is  for  want." — Prov.  xxii.  16. 

"  Rob  not  the  poor  because  he  is  poor,  neither  oppress  the  humble 
in  the  gate,  for  the  Lord  will  plead  their  cause  and  despoil  of  life 
those  that  despoil  them." — Prov.  xxii.  22,  23. 

IF  we  would  understand  and  lay  to  heart  the  very 
striking  lessons  of  this  book  on  the  treatment  of 
the  poor,  it  will  be  well  for  us  to  observe  that  there 
are  four  words  in  the  Hebrew  original  which  are 
rendered  by  our  English  words  "poor"  or  "needy." 
These  words  we  will  try  to  discriminate  and  to  use 
with  more  exactness  in  the  present  lecture,  that  we 
may  not  miss  any  of  the  teaching  by  the  blur  and 
obscurity  of  careless  language.  Ftj^st,  there  is  a  word 
(^1)  for  which  we  will  reserve  our  English  word 
"  poor " ;  it  signifies  a  person  who  is  weak  and 
uninfluential;  but  not  necessarily  destitute  or  even  in 
want.  The  "  poor "  are  those  who  form  the  vast 
majority  of  every  society,  and  are  sometimes  described 
by  the  word  "masses."  Secondly^  there  is  a  word 
(^1)   which   may   be   rendered    "needy."      It    covers 


xxii.  2,  9,  16,22,23.]     TREATMENT  OF  THE  POOR.  289 

those  who  are  in  actual  want,  people  whr  irough 
bereavement,  or  infirmity,  or  unavoidable  calamity  are 
unable  to  secure  a  sufficiency  of  the  necessaries  of  life 
Thirdly^  there  is  a  word  (^vl-')  which  we  r-  ty  perhaps 
render  by  "humble,"  for  though  it  r  .e  literally 
describes  the  afflicted  and  sad,  it  contain,  within  it  a 
hint  of  moral  commendation  which  sugge^^ts  a  transi- 
tion from  the  idea  of  simple  weakness  and  helplessness 
to  that  of  patient  and  humble  depender^ce  on  God. 
Lastly,  there  is  a  word  (P^??>*)  which  we  will  render 
"  destitute."  If  we  keep  these  notions — "  poor," 
"needy,"  "humble,"  "  destitute  "—distinct,  and  yet 
combined,  to  form  one  conception,  we  shall  find  that 
the  proverbs  before  us  refer  to  that  large  section  of 
mankind  who  are  in  a  worldly  and  material  sense 
considered  the  least  fortunate  ;  those  to  whom  it  is 
a  lifelong  effort  merely  to  live ;  those  who  have  no 
margin  of  security  on  which  to  fall  back  in  case  of 
disaster  or  sickness  ;  those  who  are  engaged  in  pre- 
carious employments  or  in  casual  labour ;  those  who 
may  keep  their  heads  above  water  by  dihgence  and 
unremitting  exertions,  but  may  at  any  time  go  under  ; 
those  who  owing  to  this  constant  pressure  of  the 
elementary  needs  have  but  little  leisure  to  cultivate 
their  faculties,  and  little  opportunity  to  maintain  their 
rights.  We  are  to  think  of  the  large  class  of  persons 
who  in  more  primitive  times  are  slaves,  who  in  feudal 
times  are  serfs,  who  in  modern  times  are  called  the 
proletariate ;  those  in  whose  interest  the  laws  of 
society  have  not  hitherto  been  framed,  because  they 
have  not  until  quite  recently  been  admitted  to  any 
substantial  share  in  the  work  of  legislation  ;  those  who 
have    always    found    it    peculiarly    difficult    to    secure 

19 


290  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

justice,  because  justice  is  a  costly  commodity,  and  they 
have  no  means  to  spare,  since  "  the  destruction  of  the 
poor  is  precisely  their  poverty."^  We  are  not  to  think 
of  the  idle  and  the  vicious,  who  are  so  often  classed 
with  the  poor,  because  they,  like  the  poor,  are  without 
means, — we  must  rigorously  exclude  these,  for  they 
are  not  in  the  mind  of  the  writer  when  he  gives  us 
these  golden  precepts.  We  must  remember  that  it  is 
part  of  our  peculiar  English  system,  the  result  of  our 
boasted  Poor  Law,  to  discredit  the  very  word  poverty, 
by  refusing  to  discriminate  between  the  poor  in  the 
scriptural  sense,  who  are  honourable  and  even  noble, 
and  the  pauper  in  the  modern  sense,  who  is  almost 
always  the  scum  of  a  corrupt  social  order,  in  four  cases 
out  of  five  a  drunkard,  and  in  the  fifth  case  the  pro- 
duct of  some  one  else's  moral  failings.  It  requires 
quite  an  effort  for  us  to  see  and  realize  what  the 
Scriptures  mean  by  the  poor.  We  have  to  slip  away 
from  all  the  wretched  associations  of  the  Poor  House, 
the  Poor  Law,  and  the  Guardians.  We  have  to 
bring  before  our  minds  a  class  which  in  a  whole- 
some state  of  society  would  be  a  small,  numerable 
minority,  but  in  our  own  unwholesome  state  of  society 
are  a  large  and  well-nigh  innumerable  majority, — not 
only  the  destitute  and  the  actually  needy,  but  all  the 
people  who  have  no  land  on  which  to  live,  no  house 
which  they  can  call  their  own,  no  reserve  fund,  no 
possibility  of  a  reserve  fund,  against  the  unavoidable 
calamities  and  chances  of  life,  the  people  who  are 
trodden  down — who  tread  each  other  down — in  the 
race  of  competition;  all  those,  too,  who,  according  to 

Prov.  X.  15. 


ii.  2,  9,  16,  22,  23.]     TREA TMENT  OF  THE  POOR.  291 

the  godless  dogma  of  the  day,  must  go  to  the  wall 
because  they  are  weak,  and  must  give  up  the  idea 
of  surviving  because  only  the  fittest  must  expect 
to  survive.  There  rise  up  before  our  imagination 
the  toiling  millions  of  Europe — of  England — worn, 
pale,  despondent,  apathetic,  and  resigned ;  or  bitter, 
desperate,  and  resentful ;  not  destitute,  though  they 
include  the  destitute ;  not  needy,  though  they  in- 
clude the  needy ;  but  poor,  without  strength  except  in 
combination,  and  often  when  combined  without  light 
or  leading. 

I.  Now  the  first  thing  we  have  to  observe  is  that 
the  poor^  in  the  sense  we  have  tried  to  define,  are  a 
special  concern  to  the  Lord.  "  Rob  not  the  poor," 
says  the  text,  ''  because  he  is  poor,  neither  oppress 
the  humble  in  the  gate,  for  the  Lord  will  plead  their 
cause,  and  despoil  of  life  those  that  despoil  them." 
"  Remove  not  the  ancient  landmark,  and  enter  not 
into  the  fields  of  the  fatherless ;  for  their  Redeemer 
is  strong,  He  shall  plead  their  cause  against  thee."^ 
''The  Lord  will  establish  the  border  of  the  widow."" 
So  intimate  is  the  connection  between  the  Lord  and 
I  lis  poor  creatures  that  "  he  that  oppresseth  the  poor 
reproacheth  his  Maker,  but  he  that  hath  mercy  on  the 
destitute  honoureth  Him."  ^  ''  Whoso  mocketh  the 
needy  reproacheth  his  Maker,  and  he  that  is  glad  at 
calamity  shall  not  be  unpunished."  ^  On  the  other 
hand,  "  He  that  hath  pity  on  the  poor  lendeth  unto  the 
Lord,  and  his  good  deed  will  He  pay  him  again." '' 

Not,  of  course,   that  there  is  any  favouritism   with 

'  Prov.  xxiii.  10,  II.  ^  Prov.  xvii.  5. 

■^  Prov.  XV.  25.  *  Prov.  six.  x;. 

*  Prov.  xiv.  31. 


292  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

God,  not  that  He  has  an  interest  in  a  man  because  of 
his  means  or  lack  of  means ;  but  just  because  of  His 
large  and  comprehensive  impartiality.  "  The  needy 
man  and  the  oppressor  meet  together ;  the  Lord 
lighteneth  the  eyes  of  them  both."  ^  "  The  rich  and 
the  needy  meet  together,  the  Lord  is  the  Maker  of 
them  all."  ^  His  special  interest  in  the  poor  arises 
only  from  their  special  need,  from  the  mute  cry  which 
goes  up  to  Him,  from  the  appeal  to  Him  as  their  only 
friend,  dehverer,  and  protector :  just  as  His  lesser 
interest  in  the  rich  arises  from  their  self-satisfied 
independence  of  Him,  from  their  infatuated  trust  in 
themselves,  and  from  their  conviction  that  already  all 
things  belong  to  them.  We  should  make  a  mistake 
if  we  supposed  that  the  Lord  recognises  any  class 
distinctions,  or  that  He  valued  a  man  because  he  is 
poor,  just  as  we  value  a  man  because  he  is  rich.  The 
truth  rather  is  that  He  absolutely  ignores  the  class 
distinctions,  regarding  the  mingled  mass  of  human 
beings,  rich  and  poor,  oppressor  and  oppressed,  as 
on  a  plane  of  dead  equality,  and  then  distinguishing 
between  them  on  a  totally  different  principle, — on  a 
moral,  a  spiritual  principle ;  and,  if  there  is  any  prefer- 
ence, it  is  on  the  ground  of  certain  valuable  moral 
effects  which  poverty  sometimes  produces  that  He 
takes  the  poor  into  His  peculiar  and  tender  care, 
honouring  them  with  so  close  a  friendship  that  service 
to  them  becomes  service  to  Him. 

This  is  certainly  good  news  to  the  masses.  "  You 
are  undistinguished,  and  unobserved," — the  voice  of 
wisdom  seems  to  say, — *' In  this  world,  with  its  false 

^  Prov.  xix.  13.  ^  Prov.  xxii.  2. 


xxii.  2,  9,  i6,  22,  23.1     TREA  TMENT  OF  THE  POOR.  293 

distinctions  and  perverted  ideals,  you  feel  at  a  con- 
stant disadvantage.  You  dare  hardly  claim  the  rights 
of  your  manhood  and  your  womanhood.  This  great 
personage,  possessing  half  a  city,  drawing  as  much 
unearned  money  every  day  as  you  can  earn  by  un- 
remitting toil  in  fifteen  or  twenty  years,  seems  to 
overshadow  and  to  dwarf  you.  And  there  are  these 
multitudes  of  easy,  comfortable,  resplendent  persons 
who  live  in  large  mansions  and  dress  in  costly 
garments,  while  you  and  your  family  live  in  a  couple 
of  precarious  rooms  at  a  weekly  rental,  and  find  it  all 
you  can  do  to  get  clean  and  decent  clothes  for  your 
backs.  These  moneyed  people  are  held  in  much 
estimation  ;  you,  so  far  as  you  know,  are  held  in  none. 
Their  doings — births,  marriages,  deaths — create  quite 
a  stir  in  the  world ;  you  slip  into  the  world,  through  it, 
and  out  of  it,  without  attracting  any  attention.  But 
be  assured  things  wear  a  different  appearance  from 
the  standpoint  of  God.  Realize  how  you  and  your 
fellow-men  appear  to  Him,  and  you  at  once  recover 
self-respect,  and  hold  up  your  head  in  His  presence 
as  a  man.  That  simple  truth  which  the  Ayrshire 
peasant  sang  ^  you  may  take  as  God's  truth,  as  His 
revelation ;  it  is  the  way  in  which  He  habitually  thinks 
of  you." 

How  the  scales  seem  to  fall  away  from  one's  eyes 

'    "  What  though  on  hamely  fare  we  dine, 
Wear  hoddin-gre}',  and  a'  that ; 
Gie  fools  their  silks  and  knaves  their  wine, 
A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that. 
For  a'  that  and  a'  that, 

Their  tinsel  show  and  a'  that. 
The  honest  man,  tho'  e'er  sae  poor, 
Is  king  o'  men  for  a'  that." 


294  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

directly  we  are  enabled  to  see  men  and  things  as  God 
sees  them  !  The  sacred  worth  of  humanity  shines  far 
brighter  than  any  of  its  tinsel  trappings.  We  learn 
to  estimate  ourselves  aright,  undisturbed  and  un- 
abashed by  the  false  estimates  which  are  current  in 
the  world.  Our  true  distinction  is  that  we  are  men, 
that  we  belong  to  a  race  which  was  made  in  the 
image  of  God,  was  dear  to  His  heart,  and  is  redeemed 
by  His  love.  The  equality  we  claim  for  men  is  not 
a  levelling  down — it  is  quite  the  reverse;  it  is  raising 
them  up  to  the  higher  level  which  they  have  deserted 
and  forgotten ;  it  is  teaching  them  to  live  as  men, 
distinguished  not  by  their  accidental  circumstances  or 
possessions,  but  by  their  manhood  itself.  It  is  giving 
men  self-respect  instead  of  self-esteem,  teaching  them 
not  to  vaunt  themselves  as  one  against  another,  but 
to  claim  their  high  and  honourable  title,  one  and  all, 
as  the  sons  of  God. 

II.  But  now  it  follows  that,  if  the  Lord  Himself 
espouses  the  cause  of  the  poor,  and  even  identifies 
Himself  with  them,  ill-treatment  of  them,  injustice  to 
them,  or  even  a  wilful  neglect  of  them  and  disregard  of 
their  interests,  must  be  a  sin,  and  a  very  terrible  sin. 
"  He  that  despiseth  his  neighbour  sinneth ;  but  he  that 
hath  pity  on  the  humble,  happy  is  he."  '^ 

In  the  East  to  this  day  the  proverb,  ''  He  that  with- 
holdeth  corn,  the  people  shall  curse  him ;  but  blessing 
shall  be  upon  the  head  of  him  that  selleth  it,"  -  has  its 


*  Prov.  xiv.  21. 

^  Prov.  xi.  26.  The  following  description  of  Persia,  in  the  Missionary 
Review  of  the  World,  October,  1889,  p.  782,  aptly  illustrates  the  practices 
against  which  the  text  inveighs: — "The  sole  end  for  which  the  Persian 
Government  exists  is  the  collection  of  the  revenue,  the  fleecing  of  the 


xxii.  2, 9, 16,  22,  23.]     TREA  TMENT  OF  THE  POOR.  295 

full  significance.  But  even  in  the  West,  where  the  name 
of  Christ  is  borne  by  the  nations,  it  is  a  common  thing 
for  one  or  two  greedy  and  selfish  capitalists  to  form  a 
"corner" — as  the  commercial  slang  of  the  day  deno- 
minates it — in  some  article  of  industry,  i.e.,  to  secure  all 
tlie  raw  material  in  the  market,  and  to  hold  it  until  a 
famine  price  can  be  demanded.  Meanwhile,  the  mills 
are  idle,  the  looms  are  silent,  the  workpeople  are  un- 
employed, and  their  families  suffer.  Our  moral  sense  is 
not  yet  sufficiently  cultivated  to  condemn  this  hideous 
selfishness  as  severely  as  it  deserves,  and  to  regard  the 
perpetrators  of  it  as  enemies  of  the  human  race.  "  The 
people  curse  "  them,  that  is  all.  But  as  we  have  seen 
that  the  cause  of  the  wage-earners  is  the  cause  of  the 
Lord,  we  may  rest  quite  confident  that  He  to  whom 
vengeance  belongs  enters  every  action  of  the  kind  in 
Mis  unerasable  accounts,  and  reserves  the  inevitable 
punishment  for  these  "  oppressors  of  the  poor." 

people.  Large  portions  of  the  land,  confiscated  from  time  to  time, 
belong  to  the  Sovereign,  and  are  farmed  out  on  terms  well-nigh  ruinous 
to  the  tenant.  Even  where  property  belongs  to  the  subject,  it  is  taxed 
to  the  last  degree  as  a  starting-point,  while  the  successions  of  sub- 
rulers  and  collectors  make  still  further  drains  upon  the  moiety  that 
must  save  the  labourer's  family  from  absolute  want.  The  whole 
burden  of  taxation  thus  comes  really  upon  the  labouring  class.  Added 
to  this  extortion  is  the  constant  uncertainty  as  to  whether  the  planter 
will  be  permitted  to  reap  his  crop  at  all.  Downright  robbery  of  fields 
or  households  by  the  retainers  of  petty  chiefs  is  of  frequent  occur- 
rence, and  the  poor  are  liable  any  day  to  be  deprived  of  their  very 
last  resource.  Agriculture  and  other  industries  so  discouraged  and 
paralysed  barely  sustain  the  lives  of  the  people  at  the  best,  and  when 
drought  is  added  thousands  must  perish."  In  times  of  scarcity,  "The 
king  sets  the  example — loc/cs  up  his  granaries^  and  withholds  every 
kernel  of  ivheat  except  at  famine  prices.  Every  nabob  and  landowner 
who  has  a  stock  on  hand  follows  this  example.  Rapacity  and  cupidity 
rule;  money  is  coined  out  of  the  sufferings  of  the  poor." 


296  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

There  is  another  evil  of  modern  industrial  life  which 
is  alluded  to  in  the  Proverbs  before  us.  No  oppres- 
sion of  the  poor  is  more  terrible  than  that  which  is 
exercised  by  those  who  themselves  are  needy.  The 
system  which  results  from  necessity  of  this  kind  is 
termed  '^  sweating."  The  hungry  contractor  undertakes 
the  job  at  the  lowest  possible  price,  and  secures  his 
profit  by  getting  hungrier  and  weaker  creatures  than 
himself  to  do  the  work  at  a  price  lower  than  possible, 
literally  at  starvation  wages.  What  force,  then,  to 
modern  ears  is  there  in  the  saying,  "A  needy  man  that 
oppresseth  the  poor  is  like  a  sweeping  rain  which 
leaveth  no  food  "  !  ^ 

The  Divine  oversight  of  these  industrial  abuses  is 
not,  as  we  sometimes  suppose,  pretermitted.  Wisdom 
and  Justice  and  Love  hold  the  reins,  and  though  the 
rapacity  and  cupidity  of  men  seem  to  have  a  wide 
range,  they  are  inevitably  pulled  up  in  the  end,  if 
not  in  this  partial  and  transient  life,  yet  in  that  long 
Eternity  through  which  the  Eternal  will  work  out  His 
purposes.  As  He  Himself  sides  with  the  poor  and 
pities  them,  and  turns  with  indignation  against  their 
oppressors,  it  follows  necessarily  that  ''  he  that  aug- 
ments his  substance  by  usury  and  increase  gathereth 


*  Prov.  xxviii.  3.  Oddly  enough  the  commentators,  who  seem 
never  to  have  heard  of  "sweating,"  propose  to  read  for  \y~\  either 
T'P'i;  =  rich,  or  t^"!  =  t^'N")  =  head,  for  the  head  of  the  State ;  an 
example  of  conjectural  emendation  which  may  well  make  us  cautious 
of  the  mere  scholar's  method  of  treating  the  sacred  text. 

"The  cruellest  landlords,  receiving  lo,  20,  and  30  per  cent,  from 
detestable  habitations  (in  London),  are  nearly  connected  by  birth 
and  circumstance  to  those  they  oppress  "  {Lecture  delivered  at  Essex 
Hcxll,  November  i8th,  1889,  by  Thomas  Locke  Worthington). 


xxii.  2,  9,  i6,  22,  23.]     TREA  TMENT  OF  THE  POOR.  297 

it  for  him  that  pities  the  poor."  ^  In  fact,  the  merciful 
and  pitiful  nature  has  all  the  forces  that  rule  the 
universe  on  its  side,  notwithstanding  appearances  to  the 
contrary  :  "  The  merciful  man  doeth  good  to  his  own 
soul,  but  he  that  is  cruel  troubleth  his  own  flesh."  ^ 

It  is  the  strange  paradox  of  all  selfishness  that  the 
selfish  man  is  really  quite  blind  to  his  own  true  interests. 
He  most  conscientiously  lives  for  himself,  and  seeks 
his  own  good,  but  the  good  he  sought  proves  to  be 
his  evil,  and  of  all  his  innumerable  foes  he  finds  at 
last  that  he  himself  is  the  worst.  The  selfish  man  is 
always  coming  to  want,  while  the  unselfish  man  whose 
whole  thought  has  been  for  others  is  richly  provided 
for.     *'  He  that  giveth  unto  the  needy  shall  not  lack, 

'  Prov.  xxviii.  8.  The  difficult  verse  Proverbs  xxii.  16  should  find 
a  place  here,  "He  that  oppresses  the  poor  to  increase  for  him,  he  that 
gives  to  the  rich  only  for  need,"  but  it  is  impossible  to  accurately 
dotermine  its  meaning.  If  the  rendering  of  the  English  Bible  is 
correct,  we  may  interpret  the  proverb  as  a  statement  of  the  folly  of 
oppression  which  leads  to  want  as  inevitably  as  the  more  obvious 
folly  of  giving  to  the  rich.  But  possibly  Nowack  is  right  in  an  inter- 
pretation which  gives  quite  another  turn  to  the  saying,  and  makes  it 
not  a  condemnation  of  the  oppressor,  but  a  suggestion  of  the  advan- 
tage which  may  be  gained  from  the  oppression  by  the  oppressed. 
"  He  who  oppresses  the  poor — it  turns  to  his  (viz.,  the  poor  man's) 
gain,"  because  it  calls  out  all  his  energy  and  endurance,  "  while  he 
who  gives  to  the  rich— it  turns  only  to  want,"  because  it  still  further 
ener\ates  and  unfits  him  for  the  duties  of  life.  This  is  not  very  satis- 
factory, and  is  decidedly  far-fetched  ;  but  it  is  better  than  Delitzsch's 
suggestion,  which  strips  the  proverb  of  all  moral  significance,  viz., 
"  He  that  oppresses  the  poor,  it  is  at  any  rate  for  his  own  gain  ;  but 
he  who  gives  to  the  rich,  it  is  only  to  get  want."  The  conclusion  from 
this  would  be,  that  it  is  better  to  oppress  the  poor  than  to  give  to  the 
rich,  a  sentiment  quite  out  of  harmony  with  the  ethical  teaching  of  the 
Proverbs.  In  a  case  like  this  we  can  only  suppose  that  the  saying 
has  reached  us  in  a  mutilated  form. 

'^  Prov.  xi.  17. 


298  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

but  he  that  hideth  his  eyes  shall  have  many  a  curse."  ^ 
*'  There  is  that  scattereth  and  increaseth  yet  more,  and 
there  is  that  withholdeth  more  than  is  meet,  but  it 
tendeth  only  to  want."^ 

^'  He  that  hideth  his  eyes  shall  have  many  a  curse  ! " 
Yes,  nothing  is  more  striking  than  this  truth,  that  not 
only  positive  oppression  of  the  poor,  but  mere  indiffer- 
ence to  their  state,  mere  neglect  of  their  sufferings, 
involves  us  in  sin.  There  are  many  who  can  honestly 
say  that  they  have  not  deliberately  wronged  their  fellow- 
men,  and  will  on  that  ground  plead  innocent ;  but  that 
is  not  enough.  We  are  as  members  one  of  another 
responsible  in  a  degree  for  all  the  injustice  and  cruelty 
which  are  practised  in  the  society  to  which  we  belong. 
If  we  are  drawing  an  income  from  invested  money,  we 
are  responsible  for  the  cruel  exactions  of  excessive 
work,  for  the  heartless  disregard  of  life  and  limb,  and 
for  the  constant  under-payment  of  the  workers  which 
makes  the  dividends  so  princely.^     Nay,  when  we  buy 


'  Prov.  xxviii.  27.  ^  Prov,  xi.  24. 

^  Can  the  shareholders  of  the  G.  W.  R.,  for  instance,  hold  themselves 
free  from  responsibility  in  the  case  referred  to  in  the  following 
paragraph  from  the  Journal  of  the  Peoples  Palace?  "The  Saturday 
Review,  always  trustworthy  and  read-worthy  on  subjects  of  law,  calls 
attention  to  a  case  which  concerns  a  great  many.  It  is  a  case  in  which 
the  decision  is  most  unfortunate  to  the  interests  of  all  working  men. 
One  Membery  was  employed  at  Paddington  to  shunt  trunks  :  he  was 
taken  on  by  a  contractor,  but  his  real  emplo3'ers  were  the  G.W.R. 
The  trucks  were  drawn  by  a  horse,  and  the  horse  ought  to  have  had 
a  boy  to  hitch  on  or  off  at  a  moment's  notice  :  but  the  contractor 
refused  to  supply  boys.  Membery  in  vain  asked  for  one,  pointing 
out  the  great  dangers  to  which  he  was  exposed.  He  complained 
on  the  very  day  of  the  accident  by  which  he  was  knocked  down 
and  injured  seriousl3^  He  sued  the  Company ;  he  won  his  case  with 
damages ;  the  Company,  being  a   rich    body,  appealed.     Now,  con- 


xxii.  2,  q,  1 6,  22,  23.]     TREA  TME.\T  OF  THE  POOR.  299 

and  use  the  cheap  goods,  which  are  cheap  because  they 
have  been  made  at  the  cost  of  health  and  happiness 
and  Hfe  to  our  brothers  and  our  sisters,  their  blood  is 
upon  our  heads,  though  we  choose  to  forget  it.  For 
listen — ''Whoso  stoppeth  ears  at  the  cry  of  the  poor," 
whoso  tries  to  ignore  that  there  is  a  labour  question, 
and  that  the  cry  for  increased  or  even  regular  wages, 
and  for  tolerable  homes,  and  wholesome  conditions  of 
work,  is  a  reality,  and  in  form  of  unions,  or  strikes, 
or  low  wails  of  despair,  is  addressed  to  us  all — "  he 
shall  cry  and  shall  not  be  heard."  ^  Such  is  the  in- 
exorable law  of  God.  And  again  :  "  Deliver  those  that 
are  carried  away  unto  death," — those  who  are  sacrificing 
the  sweetness  of  life,  the  sap  of  the  bones,  the  health 
of  the  marrow,  to  the  ruthless  exigencies  of  the  indus- 
trial machine ;  "  and  those  tottering  to  slaughter  see 
thou  hold  back," — not  leaving  them  to  "  dree  their  own 
sad  weird,"  helpless  and   unregarded.     "  If  thou  say, 

sidering  the  vexation,  the  anxiet}',  and  the  expense  of  carrying  on  such 
a  case,  a  Company  which  appeals  ought  in  justice  to  have  the  damages 
doubled  if  it  loses.  The  Company  lost.  They  appealed  to  the  Lords, 
still  on  the  principle  of  being  rich  and  their  opponent  poor.  This 
time  the  Company  won.  The  Lords  have  ruled  that  the  Company 
did  not  employ  Membery,  and  that  he  was  not  obliged  to  work  with- 
out a  boy  :  he  might  have  refused  to  work  at  all.  Indeed  !  Then, 
if  he  refused  to  work,  what  about  the  children  at  home  ?  A  more 
mischievous  doctrine  was  never  upheld.  Why,  there  are  thousands 
and  thousands  of  men  and  women  who  work  daily  under  ineffectual 
protest, — who  work  at  trades  unwholesome,  for  wages  inefficient,  and 
for  excessive  hours  ;  yet  they  work  because  they  must — because  they 
must.  Membery  worked  without  a  boy,  knowing  that  he  would  some 
day  be  run  over  and  perhaps  killed,  because  he  must :  he  had  no  choice. 
When  all  the  Trade  Unions  are  merged  into  one  immense  Trade 
Union,  it  will  not  be  the  wages  alone  that  will  be  determined,  but 
the  cases  of  such  unfortunate  men  as  Membery." 
'  Prov.  xxi.  13. 


300  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

Behold  we  knew  not  this  man," — how  could  we  make 
ourselves  acquainted  with  all  the  toiling  masses  of  the 
city  by  whose  labour  we  lived  and  were  maintained 
in  comfort  ? — ^'  Doth  not  He  that  weigheth  the  hearts 
consider  it ;  and  He  that  keepeth  thy  soul,  doth  not 
He  know  it,  and  shall  not  He  render  to  every  man 
according  to  his  work  ?  "  ^  That  is  to  say,  if  we  plead, 
"  When  saw  we  Thee  ahungred,  or  athirst,  or  sick 
and  in  prison,  and  came  not  to  Thee  ?  "  our  Lord  will 
say,  '^  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of  the  least  ot 
these,  ye  did  it  not  to  Me."  And  we  "  shall  go  away  " 
into  everlasting  punishment,  while  the  righteous  go  into 
life  eternal. 

III.  For  it  follows,  from  the  whole  consideration  of 
this  subject,  that  those  who  make  their  life  a  ministry 
to  the  poor  obtain  a  blessing, — yes,  the  only  true  and 
permanent  blessing  that  life  is  capable  of  yielding. 
"  He  that  hath  a  bountiful  eye  shall  be  blessed  ;  for 
he  giveth  of  his  bread  to  the  poor."'^  The  very  form 
of  the  saying  is  significant.  Does  it  not  imply  :  *'  It  is 
obvious  that  to  give  our  bread  to  the  poor  is  a  blessing 
to  ourselves,  so  obvious  that  it  needs  only  to  be  stated 
to  be  admitted,  and  therefore,  as  the  bountiful  eye, 
the  philanthropic  observation,  the  readiness  to  see 
suffering  and  to  search  out  the  sufferers,  necessarily 
leads  to  this  generous  distribution,  it  must  be  a  blessing 
to  its  possessor.  Indeed,  this  is  a  true  test  of  righte- 
ousness, as  the  Lord  teaches  in  the  parable  just  quoted. 
It  is  "  the  righteous  that  takes  knowledge  of  the  cause 
of  the  poor,  while  the  wicked  understands  not  to  know 
it."^    A  rehgion  which  takes  no  knowledge  of  the  masses 

^  Prov.  xxiv.  II,  12.  2  Prov.  xxii.  9.  *  Prov.  xxix.  7, 


xxii.  2,  9,  i6,  22,  23.]     TREA  TMENT  OF  THE  POOR.  301 

is  a  false  religion ;  a  Church  and  a  Ministry  which 
"  understand  not  to  know"  the  condition  of  the  people 
and  the  needs  of  the  poor  are  not  Christ's  Church  and 
Christ's  Ministry,  but  flagrantly  apostate;  and  nothing  is 
plainer  than  this — that  from  such  a  Church  and  Ministry 
He  will  accept  no  orthodoxy  of  belief  or  valiant  defence 
of  the  creed  in  lieu  of  obedience  to  all  His  plain  and 
unmistakable  commandments. 

If  we  look  at  governments,  the  test  is  practically  the 
same.  "  The  king  that  faithfully  judgeth  the  poor, 
his  throne  shall  be  established  for  ever."^  And  it  is 
because  the  Messianic  King,  alone  of  all  sovereigns 
and  governments,  rightly  and  fully  understands  and 
maintains  the  cause  of  the  poor,  that  He  alone  of 
sovereigns  shall  be  established  for  ever,  and  of  the 
increase  of  His  government  there  shall  be  no  end. 
And  for  the  flagrant  neglect  of  this  vital  question  on 
the  part  of  all  governing  persons  and  assemblies,  that 
King  will  call  to  account  those  pompous  and  wordy 
magnates  who  have  borne  the  sword  in  vain,  consider- 
ing all  interests  rather  than  those  of  the  poor,  whom 
they  were  specially  appointed  to  judge;  and  of  the  needy, 
to  whose  succour  they  were  peculiarly  bound  to  run. 

And  what  holds  in  the  state  holds  in  the  family. 
The  virtuous  woman,  and  head  of  the  household — 
she  whom  God  can  approve  and  welcome  into  ever- 
lasting habitations — is  emphatically  not  she  who  is 
always  striving  for  social  aggrandisement,  always  seek- 
ing for  her  children  wealthy  settlements  and  spurious 
honours  ;  but  is  one  who  "  spreadeth  out  her  hand  to 

'  Prov.  xxix.  14.  Has  William  II.  of  Germany  been  considering  this 
text?  If  so,  it  is  full  of  promise  for  the  prosperity  of  Germany  and 
of  Europe?     (International  Labour  Conference,  March  1890.) 


302  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

the  poor,   yea,  she  reacheth   forth    her  hands  to    the 
needy."  ^ 

Well  may  we  try  to  take  God's  view  of  this  question, 
to  understand  what  He  means  by  the  poor,  and  how 
He  regards  them,  and  how  He  expects  us  to  treat 
them.  For  this,  if  it  is  not  the  secret  and  the  centre 
of  all  true  religious  life,  is  at  least  the  infaUible  test 
of  whether  our  religious  life  is  true  or  not.  By  our 
treatment  of  His  poor,  the  Son  of  Man,  who  is  to  judge 
the  world,  declares  that  we  shall  be  judged.  ''  By 
that  we  shall  be  condemned  or  by  that  we  shall  be 
acquitted." 

'  Prov.  xxxi.  30. 


XXIII. 

EDUCATION.     THE  PARENTS   THOUGHT  OF  THE 
CHILD, 

"Train  up  a  child  according  to  his  way,  and  even  when  he  is  old 
he  will  not  depart  from  it."' — Prov.  xxii.  6. 

"  Withhold  not  correction  from  the  child ;  if  thou  beat  him  with 
the  rod  he  shall  not  die.  Thou  shalt  beat  him  with  the  rod  and  shalt 
deliver  his  soul  from  Sheol." — Prov.  xxiii.  13,  14. 

IN  Lecture  IV.  we  examined  two  of  the  main  prin- 
ciples which  should  be  inculcated  on  children  in  a 
Christian  home.  In  the  present  lecture  we  approach 
the  question  of  education  again.  It  is  necessary  for  us 
to  examine  two  features  of  parental  training  on  which 
the  book  of  Proverbs  lays  repeated  stress.  First,  the 
need  of  method  in  bringing  up  the  young  ;  and  second, 
the  way  of  punishing  their  delinquencies. 

In  the  first  we  have  an  eternal  principle,  which 
applies  and  must  apply  as  long  as  human  nature 
endures,  a  principle  which  is  even  emphasized  by  the 
demands  of  our  Christian  faith.  In  the  second  we  have 
a  principle  which  is  so  modified  and  altered  by  the 
Christian  spirit,  that  unless  we  make  the  largest  allow- 
ance for  the  change,  it  may  be,  as  it  often  has  been,  mis- 
leading and  hurtful  in  a  high  degree.  If  we  could  trace 
out  all  the  dark  cruelties  and  injustice,  the  vindictive- 
ness,  the  stupidity  of  parents,  guardians,  and  teachers, 


304  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

who  have  sheltered  themselves  under  the  authority  of 
the  text,  ''  Foolishness  is  bound  up  in  the  heart  of  a 
child,  but  the  rod  of  correction  shall  drive  it  far  from 
him,"  ^  we  might  read  with  a  new  application  our 
Saviour's  stern  censure  of  accepting  the  letter  of  Scrip- 
ture in  place  of  coming  to  Him  and  learning  of  Him  who 
is  meek  and  lowly  of  heart.^ 

But  our  first  duty  is  to  understand  the  wholesome 
and  eternally  valid  teaching  that  is  here  given  us  about 
education.  ^'  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should 
go."  We  gain  a  good  deal  in  vividness  if  we  go  back 
to  the  meaning  of  the  word  which  is  rendered  "  train." 
Derived  from  a  noun  which  signifies  the  palate  and  the 
inner  part  of  the  mouth,  its  literal  meaning  is  "  to_put 
into  the  mouth."  The  metaphor  suggested  is  that  of 
feeding  an  infant.  Every  parent  recognises  the  neces- 
sity of  giving  to  the  helpless  children  suitable  nourish- 
ment. At  first  the  mother  feeds  the  babe  at  the  breast. 
After  the  weaning  she  still  feeds  it  with  food  carefully 
chosen  and  prepared.  As  the  child  grows  older  she 
changes  the  food,  but  she  does  not  relax  her  care ;  and 
the  father  admits  the  responsibihty  of  procuring  the 
necessary  diet  for  his  little  one,  a  responsibility  which 
does  not  cease  until  the  child  is  fully  grown,  fully 
formed,  and  fully  able  to  provide  for  himself.  Here 
is  the  suitable  analogy  for  mental,  moral,  and  spiritual 
teaching.  The  parents  must  feed  their  child  with  mor- 
sels suitable  to  his  age,  with  the  "milk  of  the  word" 
at  first,  afterwards  with  strong  meat.  It  all  requires 
infinite  care  and  forethought  and  wisdom,  for  there  is 
a  certain  way  of  development,  a  certain  ideal  which  the 

^  Prov.  xxii.  15.  ^  John  v.  39. 


xxii.6;xxiii.  13,  Ml  EDUCATION.  305 

child  must  realize,  and  if  the  training  is  to  be  on  the 
lines  of  that  development,  according  to  that  *^  way,"  if 
it  is  to  achieve  that  ideal,  the  teaching  must  all  be 
accurately  adapted  to  the  age  or  stage  of  development, 
and  to  the  particular  character  and  disposition  of  the 
child.  If  the  preliminary  work  of  the  parents  is  wisely 
done,  if  the  influence  exercised  by  them  while  their 
child  is  still  entirely  in  their  hands  is  exactly  what  it 
ought  to  be,  there  is  no  fear  for  the  rest  of  life — "  when 
he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it."  A  great  master 
of  modern  literature,  who  wandered  through  many 
ways  of  thought  far  from  the  opinions  and  faith  of  his 
parents,  when  in  his  old  age  he  sat  down  to  write  the 
reminiscences  of  his  life,  discovered  that  the  original 
bent  given  to  his  mind  by  his  peasant  parents  had 
remained  unexhausted  to  the  end.^  Many  beliefs  cur- 
rently held  had  faded  and  grown  dim,  much  of  the 
historical  foundation  of  his  religion  had  crumbled  away, 
but  there  was  a  truth  which  he  had  learned  from  his 
mother's  lips  and  had  seen  exemplified  in  his  father's 
life,  and  it  returned  to  him  in  its  full  force,  and  remained 
unsubmerged  in  the  tides  of  doubt,  unaffected  by  the 
breath  of  change,  it  even  acquired  a  fresh  hold  upon 
him  in  the  decline  of  his  days  : — The  chief  end  of  man 
is  to  glorify  God  and  to  enjoy  Him  for  ever. 

It  is  a  good  illustration  of  the  unrivalled  power  of 
the  parents  over  a  man's  life.  "The  Lord  hath  given 
the  father  honour  over  the  children,  and  hath  confirmed 
the  authority  of  the  mother  over  the  sons,"  says  Eccle- 


^  "I  am  the  eldest  child,  born  in  1795,  December  4th,  and  trace 
deeply-  in  myself  the  character  of  both  parents,  also  the  upbringing 
and  example  of  both." — Carlyles  Reminiscences,  vol.  i.,  p.  54. 

20 


3c6  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

siasticus.-^  It  is  a  rare  opportunity  which  is  given  to 
parents.  No  sphere  of  influence  which  they  may  ac- 
quire can  be  like  it ;  it  may  be  wider,  but  it  can  never 
be  so  intense  or  so  decisive.  A  father  who  abdicates 
the  throne  on  which  God  has  set  him,  who  foregoes  the 
honour  which  God  has  given  him,  or  turns  it  into  dis- 
honour, must  one  day  answer  for  his  base  renunciation 
before  the  Eternal  Father.  A  mother  who  uses  the 
authority  over  her  sons  which  God  has  given  her, 
merely  to  gratify  her  own  vanity  and  selfishness,  and 
to  retain  a  love  which  she  has  ceased  to  deserve ;  or 
one  who  wantonly  throws  away  the  authority  because 
its  exercise  makes  large  demands  upon  the  spirit,  has 
much  to  answer  for  at  the  Divine  judgment-seat. 
Parental  powers  are  so  absolute,  parental  possibilities 
are  so  great,  parental  joys  are  so  rare  and  wonderful, 
that  they  must  of  necessity  be  balanced  by  correspond- 
ing disadvantages  in  case  of  failure.  ''  He  that  begetteth 
a  fool  doeth  it  to  his  sorrow,  and  the  father  of  a  fool 
hath  no  joy."  ^  ''  A  foolish  son  is  a  grief  to  his  father, 
and  bitterness  to  her  that  bare  him.""  It  must  there- 
fore constantly  press  upon  all  wise  parents,  how  are 
they  to  act,  what  methods  are  they  to  adopt,  in  order 
to  rightly  discharge  their  duties,  and  to  win  that  precious 
reward  of  "  a  wise  son  "  ?  '^  "  My  son,  if  thy  heart  be 
wise,  my  heart  shall  be  glad,  even  mine,  yea,  my  reins 
shall  rejoice  when  thy  lips  speak  right  things."  ^'  The 
father  of  the  righteous  shall  greatly  rejoice,  and  he  that 
begetteth  a  wise  child  shall  have  joy  of  him."  ^ 

The  answer  which  is  constantly  suggested   by  the 

'  Eccles.  XXX.  2.  ^  Prov.  XV.  20.   Cf.  x.  i,  xxvii.  1 1,  xxix.  3. 

2  Prov.  xvii.  21.  ^  Prov.  xxiii.  15,  16,  24. 


xxii.  6;  xxiii.  13,  14.]  EDUCATION.  307 

book  of  Proverbs,  and  especially  by  our  text,  is  this  : — 
A  successful  parent  will  be  one  who  makes  the  training 
of  the  children  a  constant  and  religious  study.  It  is 
the  last  subject  in  the  world  to  be  left  to  haphazard. 
From  the  first  a  clear  aim  must  be  kept  in  view.  *'  Is 
my  great  object  that  this  boy  shall  be  a  true,  a  noble,  a 
God-fearing  man,  serving  his  day  and  generation  in  the 
way  God  shall  appoint  ?  Is  this  object  purged  of  all 
meaner  thought  ?  Can  I  renounce  the  idea  of  worldly 
success  for  him,  and  be  indifferent  to  wealth  and 
reputation,  to  comfort  and  ease  for  him  ?  "  When 
this  question  is  satisfactorily  settled,  then  comes  a 
second,  How  is  the  aim  to  be  realized  ?  Is  not  the 
parent  at  once  driven  to  God  with  the  cry,  ''Who  is 
sufficient  for  these  things  ?  "  A  mistake  may  be  so 
fatal,  and  it  is  so  hard  to  clearly  see,  to  rightly  judge, 
to  firmly  act,  that  nothing  can  avail  but  the  direct 
teaching,  inspiration,  and  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God. 
Happy  are  the  father  and  the  mother  who  have  been 
forced  in  their  helplessness  to  seek  that  Divine  help 
from  the  very  first  ! 

If  we  only  knew  it,  all  educatioQ  is  useless  apart 
from  the  Spirit  of  God.  "Where  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  is,  there  is  liberty."  And  liberty  is  just  what 
is  most  needed.  Mechanical  schemes,  cut-and-dried 
precepts,  are  quite  insufficient.  Moving  in  the  liberty 
of  the  Spirit  you  have  insight  and  adaptiveness  ;  at 
once  you  perceive  that  each  child  is  a  separate  study, 
and  must  be  approached  in  a  different  way.  One  is 
sanguine  and  over-confident,  and  he  must  constantly 
be  humbled  ;  another  is  diffident  and  desponding,  and 
must  be  encouraged  with  the  bright  word  of  sympathy, 
spoken  at  the  right  moment.     "  I  see  it  all,  my  child  ; 


3o8  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

I  know  what  a  fight  it  is  in  which  you  are  engaged."  ^ 
One  is  a  born  sceptic,  and  would  know  the  reason 
why ;  he  must  be  met  with  patient  and  comprehending 
arguments  according  to  his  mental  powers.  Another 
has  no  speculative  instincts,  and  questions  have  to  be 
raised,  doubts  suggested,  in  order  to  save  him  from  drift- 
ing into  the  easy-going  acceptance  of  everything  which 
he  is  told.  One  seems  naturally  inclined  to  be  religious, 
and  must  be  carefully  watched  lest  the  sensitiveness 
should  become  morbid,  and  a  dominant  thought  should 
lead  to  mania,  melancholy,  or  a  possible  reaction. 
Another  seems  to  have  no  rehgious  instinct,  and  the 
opportunity  must  be  sought  for  awaking  the  sense  of 
need,  rousing  the  conscience,  opening  the  eyes  to  God. 
But  again,  in  proportion  as  parents  are  led  by  the 
Spirit,  and  make  their  sacred  charge  a  matter  of  con- 
stant and  beseeching  prayer,  they  will  in  their  own 
person  and  conduct  represent  God  to  the  children,  and 
so  supplement  all  the  possible  defects  of  the  express 
training  and  disciphne.  If  the  command  "  Be  thou  in 
the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long  "  ^  is  to  have  any 
weight  with  a  child,  he  must  live  with  those  who  them- 
selves are  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long. 
A  man  must  live  near  to  God  if  he  is  to  make  God 
real  to  his  children.  A  mother  must  hold  very  real 
converse  with  her  Lord  if  His  reality  is  to  become 
obvious  to  her  little  ones.  **As  a  child,"  says  one,^ 
*'  I  always  had  a  feeling  that  God  and  Jesus  were  such 
particular    friends    of  mamma's,    and    were    honoured 

*  See  that  invaluable  little  book,  "  The  Education  of  a  Christian 
Home,"  edited  by  Ella  S.  Armitage. 
^  Prov.  xxiii.  17. 
'  "The  Educsition  of  a  Christian  Hpme." 


xxii.  6;xxiii.  13,  I4-]  EDUCATION.  309 

more  than  words  could  tell."  If  such  an  impression 
is  to  be  created,  depend  upon  it  God  and  Jesus  must 
be  particular  friends  of  yours.  No  talk,  however  pious, 
can  create  that  impression  unless  the  hallowed  friend- 
ship actually  exists. 

Again,  led  by  the  Spirit,  we  are  filled  with  Divine 
love  ;  and  no  training  of  children  can  have  any  valuable 
or  permanent  effect  which  does  not  issue  from,  which 
is  not  guided  by,  and  does  not  result  in,  love.  For  love 
is  the  Divine  educator.  It  is  this  which  accounts  for 
the  frequently  observed  anomaly  that  children  who 
seem  to  have  inferior  home  advantages  and  very  inade- 
quate education  turn  out  better  than  others  for  whom 
no  labour  or  expense  or  care  seems  to  be  grudged. 
If  love  is  not  there,  all  the  efforts  will  fail.  Love 
is  the  only  atmosphere  in  which  the  spirits  of  little 
children  can  grow.  Without  it  the  wisest  precepts 
only  choke,  and  the  best-prepared  knowledge  proves 
innutritious.  It  must  be  a  large  love,  a  wise  love,  an 
inclusive  love,  such  as  God  alone  can  shed  abroad  in 
the  heart.  Love  of  that  kind  is  very  frequently  found 
in  "  huts  where  poor  men  lie,"  and  consequently  the 
children  issuing  out  of  them  have  been  better  trained 
than  those  whose  parents  have  handed  them  over  to 
loveless  tutors  or  underlings. 

And  this  may  perhaps  fitly  lead  us  to  consider  the 
other  point  which  is  before  us — the  prominence  which 
is,  in  the  Proverbs,  given  to  chastisement.  *'  He  that 
spareth  his  rod  hateth  his  son,  but  he  that  loveth  him, 
chasteneth  him  betimes."^  "Chasten  thy  son,  seeing 
there  is  hope,  and  set  not  thy  heart  on  his  destruction." 

'  Prov.  xiii.  24.  ^  Pro  v.  xix.  18. 


310  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

"  Stripes  that  wound  are  a  cleansing  of  evil,  strokes  of 
the  recesses  of  the  belly."  ^  "  Withhold  not  correction 
from  the  child ;  when  thou  beatest  him  with  a  rod  he 
shall  not  die.  Thou  shalt  beat  him  with  the  rod,  and 
shalt  deliver  his  soul  from  Sheol."^  "The  rod  and 
reproof  give  wisdom,  but  a  child  left  to  himself  causeth 
shame  to  his  mother."  ^  "  Correct  thy  son  and  he  shall 
give  thee  rest,  yea,  he  shall  give  delight  unto  thy  soul."  ^ 

Corporal  punishment  seems  to  the  Christian,  and 
to  the  common  sense  of  a  society  which  is  the  product 
of  the  Christian  spirit,  degrading,  brutalising,  and 
essentially  futile  !  It  can  only  have  even  a  modicum  of 
good  effect  where  it  is  inflicted  by  a  loving  hand,  and 
in  a  loving  spirit,  without  a  trace  of  temper  or  cruelty, 
and  obviously  costing  more  to  inflict  than  to  bear. 
But  even  with  all  these  conditions  granted  it  is  a  most 
unsatisfactory  method  of  punishment ;  it  arouses  vin- 
dictive feelings  and  savage  passions.  A  whipped  boy 
is  almost  sure  to  bully  the  next  creature  w^eaker  than 
himself  that  he  encounters ;  and  acting  only  as  a  deter- 
rent, it  never  reaches  the  conscience,  or  creates  a  sense 
of  revolt  from  the  sin  for  the  sin's  sake,  which  is  the 
object  of  all  wise,  or  at  least  of  all  paternal,  punishment. 
We  can  only,  therefore,  set  aside  the  precept  to  use 
the  rod  as  one  which  was  in  harmony  with  darker  and 
harder  times  before  the  Saviour  of  the  world  had 
come  to  reveal  the  inner  life  and  to  teach  us  how 
we  are  to  deal  with  those  mysterious  and  wonderful 
beings,  our  fellow-creatures. 

But  with  this  modification,  and  substituting  "wise 
and   merciful   punishments"    for    "rod   and    stripes," 

'  Prov.  XX.  30.  3  Prov.  xxix.  15. 

-  Prov.  xxiii.  13,  14.  *  Prov.  xxix.  17. 


xxii.6;xxiii.  13,  14]  EDUCATION.  311 


these  teachings  remain  of  permanent  validity.  Our 
Heavenly  Father  chastens  His  children ;  by  most 
gracious  punishments  He  brings  home  to  them  the 
sense  of  sin,  and  leads  them  to  repentance  and  amend- 
ment.^ And  earthly  parents,  in  proportion  as  they  are 
led  by  the  Spirit  and  filled  with  love,  will  correct  their 
children,  not  for  their  own  pleasure,  but  for  their  chil- 
dren's good.  The  truth  which  underlies  these  apparently 
harsh  injunctions  is  this:  Love  inflicts  punishments,  nor 
are  any  punishments  so  severe  as  those  which  Love 
inflicts ;  and  only  the  punishments  which  Love  inflicts 
are  able  to  reform  and  to  save  the  character  of  the 
delinquent. 

We  all  of  us  know  that  weak  and  sentimental  nature 
— too  common  among  modern  parents — which  shrinks 
from  inflicting  pain  under  all  circumstances.  Seizing 
on  the  ill-understood  doctrine  that  Love  is  the  sovereign 
power  in  life  and  in  education,  it  pleads  in  the  name  of 
Love  that  the  offender  may  be  spared,  that  he  may 
escape  the  due  penalty  of  his  fault.  That  is  not  a  love 
like  God's  love  :  and  if  you  are  careful  to  observe,  it 
has  not  the  remedial  or  saving  effect  which  the  love  of 
God  has.  "  He  that  declines  to  punish  his  child  hates 
him;  he  that  loveth  him  chasteneth  him  betimes."  In 
the  poor  child's  heart  so  much  foolishness  is  bound 
up,  so  much  wilfulness  and  temper,  so  much  vanity 
and  pride,  so  much  sensuality  and  selfishness,  so  much 
unwholesome  craving  for  amusement,  it  is  so  natural 
to  the  child  to  make  pleasure  the  be-all  and  the  end-all 
of  life,  that,  if  all  this  foolishness  is  to  be  driven  away, 


*  Lev.  xxvi.  41  :  "  If  then  their  uncircumcised  heart  be  humbled, 
and  they  then  accept  of  the  punishment  of  their  iniquity,  then  will  I 
remember  My  covenant  with  Jacob." 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


there  must  be  much  sharp  discipHne  and  painful  cor- 
rection. The  Divine  method  of  punishment  seems  to 
be  to  let  men  eat  of  the  fruit  of  their  doings  until  they 
loathe  it.  They  rebelliously  call  out  for  meat  in  the 
wilderness,  and  it  turns  into  a  satiety,  a  bitterness,  and 
a  plague,  while  it  is  between  their  teeth.  Is  it  possible 
that  parents  too,  under  the  guidance  of  the  Spirit,  may 
chasten  their  children  in  the  same  way,  bringing  home 
to  the  wilful  the  painful  effects  of  wilfulness,  to  the  vain 
the  ridiculous  effects  of  vanity,  to  the  selfish  the  dis- 
astrous issue  of  selfishness,  to  the  sensual  the  ruin  and 
the  misery  of  sensuality  ?  Might  not  the  most  effectual 
punishment  for  every  fault  be  an  enforced  quiet  in 
which  the  culprit  is  confronted  with  the  inevitable  out- 
come of  the  sin  ?  Does  not  even  the  hardest  heart 
begin  to  melt,  does  not  the  dullest  conscience  begin  to 
grow  sensitive,  when  the  sure  results  of  evil  are  aptly 
pourtrayed  before  the  mind  ?  What  pride  would  have 
courage  to  grow  if  it  had  a  glimpse  of  the  hard,  dry, 
loveless,  unloved,  heart  which  is  its  inevitable  fruit  ? 
What  young  man  would  venture  to  take  the  first 
downward  steps  in  impurity  if  he  had  ever  formed  a 
conception  of  the  devastation  of  brain  and  heart  and 
life  which  must  ensue  ? 

The  rod  cannot  open  the  eyes  ;  it  can  but  set  the 
cunning  intellect  to  work  to  find  a  way  of  enjoying  the 
sin  and  escaping  the  rod.  But  the  opening  of  the  eyes 
— at  which  all  true  punishment  must  aim — reveals  a 
rod  which  is  bound  up  with  the  sin,  sure  as  the  sin 
itself.  It  is  the  parents'  solemn  task — and  many  an 
inward  sorrow  must  it  cost — to  bring  home  to  his 
child's  heart  these  truths  of  experience  which  the  child 
cannot  at  present  know.     Wise  penalties  and  "  reproof 


i.6;xxiii.  13,  m]  EDUCATION.  313 


give  wisdom,  but  a  child  left  to  himself  causeth  shame 
to  his  mother."  ^ 

There  is  a  voice,  the  voice  of  Divine  Wisdom,  which 
speaks  continually  to  every  parent,  to  every  teacher  of 
youth:  "Incline  thine  ear,"  it  says,  '^and  hear  the 
words  of  the  wise,  and  apply  thy  heart  unto  my  know- 
ledge"— without  attention  and  application  this  heavenly 
wisdom  cannot  be  known.  "Ft)r  it  is  a  pleasant  thing," 
so  the  voice  continues,  "  if  thou  keep  these  words 
within  thee,  if  they  be  estabhshed  together  upon  thy 
lips.  That  thy  trust  may  be  in  the  Lord," — without 
whom  the  best-meant  efforts  will  fail, — "  I  have  made 
them  known  to  thee  this  day,  even  to  thee.  Have  not 
I  written  to  thee  excellent  things  of  counsels  and 
knowledge,  to  make  thee  know  the  certainty  of  the 
words  of  truth,  that  thou  mayest  carry  back  words  of 
truth  to  them,"  those  helpless  and  ignorant  children 
whose  needs  "  send  thee  "  to  me  for  instruction  ?  '^ 

The  failures  are  numerous,  disastrous,  heart-breaking, 
but  they  are  unnecessary.  Your  children  are  holy ; 
they  belong  to  the  Saviour  in  whom  you  yourselves 
believe.  Grasp  that  truth  ;  go  to  Him  in  sublime  faith. 
"  Lord,  it  is  not  with  Thee  to  save  a  part,  to  choose  this 
one  and  save  that.  Thou  wilt  glorify  Thyself  in  every 
one."  ^  Surrender  yourself  to  Him  that  He  may  use 
you  to  exhibit  His  Divine  graces  and  saving  love  to 
the  children.  Live  with  Him  daily,  that  the  glory  of 
the  communion  may  not  pass  away  from  your  face,  or 
appear  only  by  fits  and  starts — and  so  train  up  your 
child  according  to  his  way ;  and  when  he  is  old  he  will 
not  depart  from  it. 

'  Prov.  xxix,  15.  •^  Prov.  xxiii.  17-21. 

'  "The  Education  of  a  Christian  Home." 


XXIV. 

FORGIVING. 

"Be  not  a  witness  against  thy  neighbour  without  cause,  and  deceive 
not  with  thy  lips.  Say  not,  I  will  do  so  to  him  as  he  hath  done  to 
me ;  I  will  render  to  the  man  according  to  his  work." — Prov.  xxiv. 
28,  29. 

"  Rejoice  not  when  thine  enemy  falleth,  and  let  not  thy  heart  be 
glad  when  he  is  overthrown,  lest  the  Lord  see  it  and  it  displease  Him, 
and  He  turn  away  His  wrath  from  him." — Prov.  xxiv.  17,  18. 

"He  that  is  glad  at  calamity  shall  not  be  unpunished." — Prov. 
xvii.  5. 

"If  thine  enemy  be  hungry,  give  him  bread  to  eat,  and  if  he  be 
thirsty  give  him  water  to  drink  ;  for  thou  shalt  heap  coals  of  fire  upon 
his  head,  and  the  Lord  shall  reward  thee." — Prov.  xxv.  21,  22. 

THERE  is  no  subject  on  which  the  teaching  of  the 
Proverbs  more  strikingly  anticipates  the  morahty 
of  the  New  Testament  than  that  of  forgiveness  to  our 
enemies.  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  could  take  some  of 
these  sayings  and  incorporate  them  unchanged  into 
the  law  of  His  kingdom,  for  indeed  it  is  not  possible 
to  surpass  the  power  and  beauty  and  truth  of  the 
command  to  feed  those  who  have  injured  us  if  they  are 
hungry,  to  give  them  drink  when  they  are  thirsty,  and 
in  this  Divine  way  to  kindle  in  them  repentance  for  the 
injury  which  they  have  done.  This  is  the  high-water 
mark  of  moral  excellence.  No  better  state  can  be 
desired.     When  a  human   spirit  is  habitually  in  this 


FORGIVING. 


tender  and  forgiving  mood,  it  is  already  united  with  the 
Father  of  spirits,  and  Hves. 

It  is  ahiiost  superfluous  to  point  out  that  even  the 
saints  of  the  Old  Testament  fall  very  far  short  of  the 
lofty  standard  which  is  here  set  before  us.  The 
Psalmist,  for  example,  is  thinking  of  coals  of  a  quite 
different  sort  when  he  exclaims :  "  As  for  the  head  of 
those  that  compass  me  about,  let  the  mischief  of  their 
own  lips  cover  them.  Let  burning  coals  fall  upon  them  ; 
let  them  be  cast  into  the  fire ;  into  deep  pits  that  they 
rise  not  up  again."  ^  That  is  the  old  elemental  hate  of 
human  nature,  the  passionate,  indignant  appeal  to  a 
righteous  God  against  those  who  have  been  guilty  of  a 
wrong  or  an  injury.  Even  Jeremiah,  one  of  the  latest, 
and  certainly  not  the  least  holy,  of  the  prophets  could 
cry  out  concerning  his  enemies :  "  Yet,  Lord,  Thou 
knowest  all  their  counsel  against  me  to  slay  me  ;  forgive 
not  their  iniquity,  neither  blot  out  their  sin  from  Thy 
sight ;  but  let  them  be  overthrown  before  Thee ;  deal 
Thou  with  them  in  the  time  of  Thine  anger."  ^  Words 
painfully  natural,  words  echoed  by  many  a  persecuted 
man  of  God,  but  yet  quite  inconsistent  with  the  teaching 
of  the  Saviour  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  the  teach- 
ing already  foreshadowed  in  this  beautiful  proverb. 

But  it  may  not  be  superfluous  to  notice  that  the 
Proverbs  themselves,  even  those  which  stand  at  the 
head  of  this  chapter,  do  not  all  touch  the  high-water 
mark  of  xxv.  21.  Thus,  for  example,  the  motive  which 
is  suggested  in  xxiv.  18  for  not  rejoicing  in  the  fall  of 
an  enemy  is  none  of  the  highest.  The  idea  seems  to 
be,  if  you  see  your  enemy  undergoing  punishment,  if 

'  P^ajm  cxl.  9,  10.  *  Jer.  xviii.  23. 


3i6  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

calamity  is  falling  upon  him  from  the  Lord,  then  do  not 
indulge  in  any  insolent  exultation,  lest  the  Lord  should 
be  offended  with  you,  and,  in  order  to  chastise  your  malig- 
nity, should  cease  to  plague  and  trouble  him.  In  such  a 
view  of  the  question,  God  is  still  regarded  as  a  Nemesis 
that  will  resent  any  unseemly  rejoicing  in  the  calamity 
of  another ;  ^  in  proportion  therefore  as  you  wish  to  see 
your  enemy  punished,  you  must  abstain  from  that  joy 
in  his  punishment  which  would  lead  to  its  diminution. 
From  a  precept  of  that  kind  there  is  a  vast  moral 
stride  to  the  simple  prohibition  of  retaliation,  announced 
without  any  reason  given  or  suggested  in  xxiv.  29 — 
"  Say  not,  I  will  do  so  to  him  as  he  hath  done  to  me, 
I  will  render  to  the  man  according  to  his  work."  And 
from  this  again  there  is  an  incalculable  stride  to  the 
positive  spirit  of  love,  which,  not  content  with  simply 
abstaining  from  vindictiveness,  actually  turns  the  tables, 
and  repays  good  for  evil,  looking  with  quiet  assurance 
to  the  Lord,  and  the  Lord  alone,  for  recognition  and 
reward.  Our  wonder  is  occasioned  not  because  all  the 
Proverbs  do  not  reach  the  moral  altitude  of  this  one,  but 
rather  that  this  one  should  be  so  high.  When  an  ideal 
is  set  up  far  in  advance  of  the  general  practice  and  even 
of  the  general  thoughts  of  the  time,  we  can  ascribe  it 
only  to  the  promptings  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

It   needs  no   proof  that  forgiveness  is   better  than 
revenge.     We  all  know  that — 

"  Revenge,  at  first  though  sweet, 
Bitter  ere  long  back  on  itself  recoils."^ 

We  all  know  that  the  immediate  effect  of  forgiving  our 


^  Prov.  xvii.  56.  ^  Paradise  Lost,  ix.,  171. 


FORGIVING.  317 


enemy  is  a  sweet  flow  of  tenderness  in  the  soul,  which 
surpasses  in  delight  all  the  imagined  joys  of  vindic- 
tiveness  ;  and  that  the  next  effect  is  to  soften  and  win 
the  foe  himself;  the  scornful  look  relents,  the  tears  of 
passion  give  place  to  those  of  penitence,  the  moved  heart 
is  eager  to  make  amends.  We  all  know  that  nothing 
more  powerfully  affects  our  fellow-men  than  the  exhibi- 
tion of  this  placable  temper.^  We  all  know  that  in 
forgiving  we  share  God's  prerogative,  and  come  into 
harmony  with  His  Spirit. 

Yet  here  is  the  melancholy  fact  that  notwithstanding 
this  proverbial  truth,  taken  up  into  the  teaching  of  our 
Saviour,  and  echoed  in  the  writings  of  His  Apostles,^ 
even  in  a  Christian  society,  forgiveness  is  almost  as 
rare  as  it  was  in  the  days  of  King  Solomon.  Men 
are  not  ashamed — even  professing  Christians  are  not 
ashamed — to  say  about  their  enemies,  ''  I  will  do  so 
to  him  as  he  has  done  to  me,  I  will  render  to  the  man 
according  to  his  work."  We  even  have  a  lurking  ad- 
miration for  such  retaliatory  conduct,  calling  it  spirited, 
and  we  still  are  inclined  to  contemn  one  who  acts  on 
the  Christly  principle  as  weak  or  visionary.  Still  the 
old  bad  delight  in  seeing  evil  fall  on  the  head  of  our 
enemies  glows  in  our  hearts ;  still  the  act  of  vengeance 
is  performed,  the  bitter  retort  is  given,  the  abusive 
letter  is  written,  with  the  old  sense  of  unhallowed  pride 
and  triumph.     How  is  this  ?     Ah,  the  simple  truth  is 


'  Burke  said  of  Pitt  after  his  fall,  that  the  manner  in  which  he 
made  his  own  justification,  without  impeaching  the  conduct  of  his 
colleagues  or  taking  anj'  measure  that  might  seem  to  arise  from  dis- 
gust or  opposition,  set  a  seal  upon  his  character.  (Lecky,  "  England 
in  the  Eighteenth  Century,"  vol.  iii  ,61.) 

^  See  Rom.  xii.  20. 


3i8  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

that  it  is  a  small  matter  to  get  right  principles  recog- 
nised, the  whole  difficulty  lies  in  getting  them  practised. 
We  need  a  power  which  can  successfully  contend 
against  the  storm  of  passion  and  self-will,  in  those 
terrible  moments  when  all  the  calm  lights  of  reason 
are  quenched  by  the  blinding  surf  of  passion,  and  all 
the  gentle  voices  of  goodness  are  drowned  by  its 
roaring  waves. 

Sometimes  we  hear  it  said  that  the  moral  teaching 
of  Christ  is  not  original,  but  that  all  His  precepts  may 
be  found  in  the  words  and  writings  of  ancient  sages, 
just  as  His  teaching  about  forgiveness  is  anticipated 
by  the  proverb.  Yes,  but  His  claim  does  not  rest 
upon  His  teaching,  but  upon  the  Divine  and  super- 
natural power  which  He  has  at  His  command  to  carry 
out  His  doctrines  in  the  conduct  of  His  disciples. 
This  is  the  point  which  we  must  realize  if  this  sweet 
and  beautiful  ideal  is  to  be  worked  out  in  our  lives. 
We  have  but  touched  the  fringe  of  the  question  when 
we  have  conned  His  words,  or  shaped  conceptions  of 
what  a  life  would  be  passed  in  conformity  to  them. 
The  centre  of  Christian  doctrine  is  power^  the  power 
of  Christ,  the  fountain  of  living  waters  opened  in  the 
heart,  the  grafting  of  the  withering  branches  upon 
a  living  stock,  the  indwelling  of  Christ  Himself,  as 
the  spring  and  principle  of  every  holy  action,  and  the 
effectual  restraint  on  all  our  ungovernable  passions. 

But  before  looking  more  closely  at  this,  we  ought  to 
pay  some  attention  to  the  constant  motive  which  our 
Lord,  even  in  His  teaching,  presents  for  the  practice  of 
a  forgiving  disposition.  He  always  bases  the  duty  of 
forgiveness  on  the  need  which  we  have  of  God's  for- 
giveness ;  He   teaches   us   to   pray,   "  Forgive  us  our 


xxiv.]  FORGIVING.  319 

trespasses,  as  we  forgive  them  that  trespass  against 
us  ; "  and  in  the  moving  story  of  the  unmerciful  servant, 
who  demanded  the  full  payment  from  his  fellow-servant 
just  when  his  lord  had  pitifully  remitted  his  own  debt, 
He  tells  us  that  forgiveness  of  our  enemies  is  an  indis- 
pensable condition  of  our  being  forgiven  by  God.  "  His 
lord  was  wroth,  and  delivered  him  to  the  tormentors, 
till  he  should  pay  all  that  was  due.  So  shall  also  My 
Heavenly  Father  do  unto  you,  if  ye  forgive  not  every 
one  his  brother  from  your  hearts."^  It  is  not  therefore 
only,  as  it  is  sometimes  stated,  that  we  ought  to  be 
moved  to  pity  by  remembering  what  God  has  done  for 
us.  No,  there  is  a  much  sterner  thought  in  our  Lord's 
mind  ;  it  is  that  if  we  do  not  forgive  we  shall  not  and 
cannot  be  forgiven.  The  forgiving  spirit  manifested  to 
our  fellow-men  is  that  without  which  it  is  vain  for  us 
to  come  near  and  to  ask  God  for  pardon.  If  we  have 
come,  and  are  just  about  to  offer  our  prayer,  and  if  we 
then  remember  that  we  have  aught  against  a  brother, 
we  must  go  first  and  be  reconciled  to  him,  before  our 
prayer  can  be  so  much  as  heard. 

Here  is  certainly  a  motive  of  a  very  powerful  kind. 
Which  of  us  would  dare  to  cherish  the  bitter  thought, 
or  proceed  with  our  plan  of  vengeance,  if  we  remem- 
bered and  realized  that  our  vindictiveness  would  make 
our  own  pardon  at  the  hands  of  God  impossible  ? 
Which  of  the  countless  deeds  of  retaliation  that  stain 
with  blood  the  pages  of  history  would  have  been 
perpetrated,  and  which  of  the  perpetrators  would  not 
have  tremblingly  relinquished  all  thought  of  reprisals, 
if  they  had  seen  that  in  those  savage  acts  of  vengeance 


Matt. 


320  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

they  were  not,  as  they  supposed,  executing  lawful 
justice,  but  actually  cutting  off  their  own  hope  of  pardon 
before  the  throne  of  God  ? 

If  we  avenge  ourselves,  if  society  is  constantly  torn 
by  the  quarrels  and  the  mutual  recriminations  of  hostile 
men  whose  one  thought  is  to  give  as  good  as  they 
have  got,  it  can  only  be  because  we  do  not  believe,  or 
do  not  realize,  this  solemn  teaching  of  the  Lord.  He 
seems  a  faint  and  doubtful  voice  compared  with  the 
loud  tumult  of  passion  within  ;  His  authority  seems 
weak  and  ineffectual  compared  with  the  mighty  domi- 
nation of  the  evil  disposition.  Powerful,  therefore,  as 
the  motive  is  to  which  He  constantly  appeals,  if  He 
had  left  us  nothing  but  His  teaching  on  the  subject 
we  should  not  be  materially  better  off  than  they  who 
listened  with  attention  to  the  teaching  of  the  wise 
authors  of  these  ancient  Proverbs.  What  more  has 
He  left  us  ? 

It  is  His  prerogative  to  give  to  those  who  believe  in 
Him  a  changed  heart.  How  much  is  meant  by  that, 
which  only  the  changed  heart  can  know  !  Outwardly 
we  seem  much  ahke ;  outwardly  there  is  little  sign  of 
an  inward  transformation ;  but  far  as  the  east  is  from 
the  west  is  the  unregenerate  heart  from  the  regenerate, 
the  Christless  heart  from  one  which  He  has  taken  in 
His  hands,  and  by  His  great  redemption  created  anew. 
Now  without  stopping  to  follow  the  processes  of  faith 
by  which  this  mighty  change  is  effected,  let  us  simply 
mark  the  characteristics  of  the  change  so  far  as  it 
affects  the  matter  in  hand. 

The  first  and  most  radical  result  of  the  New  Birth  is 
that  God  takes  the  place  which  Self  has  occupied.  All 
the   thoughts   which   have    clustered   about  your  own 


xxiv. ;  xvii. ;  xxv.]  FORGIVING.  321 

being  now  turn  to  His  Being,  as  stray  fragments  of 
iron  turn  to  the  magnet.  Consequently,  all  the  emotions 
and  passions  which  are  stimulated  by  self-love  give 
place  to  those  which  are  stimulated  by  the  love  of 
God.  It  is  as  if  the  pipes  of  your  aqueduct  had  been 
changed  at  the  fountain  head,  disconnected  from  the 
malarious  waters  of  the  marsh,  and  connected  with  the 
pure  and  sparkling  water  of  the  hills.  God's  ways  of 
regarding  men,  God's  feelings  towards  men,  His  yearn- 
ing over  them.  His  pity  for  them,  flow  into  the  changed 
heart,  and  so  preoccupy  it  that  resentment,  hatred, 
and  malice  are  washed  out  like  the  sour  dregs  in  a 
cup  which  is  rinsed  in  a  running  stream. 

There  is  the  man  who  did  you  the  wrong — very 
cruel  and  unpardonable  it  was ! — but,  as  all  personal 
elements  are  quite  out  of  the  question,  you  regard  him 
just  as  if  you  were  not  the  injured  being.  You  see 
him  only  as  God  sees  him  ;  you  trace  all  the  malignant 
workings  of  his  mind  ;  you  know  how  the  fire  of  his 
hate  is  a  fire  which  burns  the  heart  that  entertains 
it.  You  see  clearly  how  tormenting  those  revenge- 
ful passions  are,  how  the  poor  soul  mastered  by  them 
is  diseased,  how  the  very  action  in  which  it  is  triumph- 
ing now  must  become  one  day  a  source  of  bitter  regret 
and  implacable  self-reproach  ;  you  soon  begin  to  regard 
the  ill  deed  as  a  shocking  wound  inflicted  on  the  doer 
of  it,  and  the  wells  of  pity  are  opened.  As  if  this 
enemy  of  yours  had  been  quite  innocent  of  all  ill-will, 
and  had  been  overtaken  by  some  terrible  calamity, 
your  one  instinctive  thought  is  to  help  him  and  relieve 
him.  Out  of  the  fulness  of  your  heart,  without  any 
sense  of  being  magnanimous,  or  any  thought  of  a 
further  end,— simply  for  tlie,flity~C)f  it, — you  come  to 

/■:'^^'        ''■'"-. '^    21 


3t' 


322  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

proffer  him  bread  in  his  hunger  and  water  in  his 
thirst. 

Yes,  it  is  in  the  atmosphere  of  pity  that  personal 
resentment  dies  away,  and  it  is  only  by  the  power  of 
the  Son  of  Man  that  the  heart  can  be  filled  with  a  pity 
large  enough  to  pardon  all  the  sins  of  our  kind. 

It  is  this  thought — though  without  any  definite  state- 
ment of  the  means  by  which  it  is  produced — that  finds 
expression  in  Whittier's  touching  lines  : — 

"  My  heart  was  heavy,  for  its  trust  had  been 
Abused,  its  kindness  answered  with  foul  wrong ; 
So  turning  gloomily  from  my  fellow-men, 
One  summer  Sabbath  day  I  strolled  among 
The  green  mounds  of  the  village  burying-place  ; 
Where  pondering  how  all  human  love  and  hate 
Find  one  sad  level ;  and  how,  soon  or  late, 
Wronged  and  wrongdoer,  each  with  meekened  face, 
And  cold  hands  folded  over  a  still  heart. 
Pass  the  green  threshold  of  a  common  grave, 
Whither  all  footsteps  tend,  whence  none  depart. 
Awed  for  myself,  and  pitying  my  race. 
Our  common  sorrow,  like  a  mighty  wave. 
Swept  all  my  pride  away,  and,  trembling,  I  forgave." 

Yes,  one  who  is  touched  by  the  spirit  of  the  Son  of 
Man  finds  too  much  to  pity  in  the  great  sorrowing 
world,  and  in  its  fleeting  and  uncertain  life,  to  cherish 
vengeful  feelings.  Himself  redeemed  by  the  untold 
love  of  His  Father,  by  the  undeserved  and  freely 
offered  pardon  in  Christ  Jesus  his  Lord,  he  can  feel  for 
his  enemies  nothing  but  forbearance  and  love ;  if  they 
too  are  Christians,  he  longs  to  win  them  back  to  the 
peace  and  joy  from  which  their  evil  passion  must  have 
driven  them  ;  and  if  they  are  not,  his  eyes  must  fill 
with  tears  as  he  remembers  how  brief  is  their  apparent 
triumph,  how  unsubstantial  their  gleam   of  joy.     The 


xxiv.;  xvii.;  XXV.]  FORGIVING.  323 


desire  to  save  them  immediately  masters  the  transitory 
wish  to  punish  them.  The  pity  of  men,  for  the  sake  of 
the  Son  of  Man,  wins  the  day. 

And  now  we  may  just  glance  at  the  effect  which  the 
Christly  conduct  has  upon  the  offender,  and  the  reward 
which  God  has  attached  to  its  exercise. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  traces  of  God's  likeness 
in  even  bad  men,  a  characteristic  to  which  there  is 
no  parallel  in  the  animal  creation,  that  though  passion 
awakes  passion,  wrath  wrath,  and  vengeance  revenge 
— so  that  savages  pass  their  whole  time  in  an  unbroken 
series  of  blood  feuds,  the  hideous  retaliation  bandied  from 
tribe  to  tribe  and  from  man  to  man,  generation  after 
generation — the  spirit  of  meekness,  proceeding  not  from 
cowardice,  but  from  love,  disarms  passion,  soothes  wrath, 
and  changes  vengeance  into  reconciliation.  The  gleam 
of  forgiveness  in  the  eye  of  the  injured  is  so  obviously  the 
light  of  God  that  the  wrongdoer  is  cowed  and  softened 
before  it.  It  kindles  a  fire  in  his  spirit,  his  heart  melts, 
his  uplifted  hand  falls,  his  angry  voice  grows  tender. 
When  men  are  so  dehumanised  as  to  be  insensible  to 
this  softening  effect,  when  they  interpret  the  gentleness 
as  weakness,  and  are  moved  by  the  forgiving  spirit 
simply  to  further  injury  and  more  shameless  wrong, 
then  we  may  know  that  they  are  possessed, — they  are 
no  longer  men, — they  are  passing  into  the  category  of 
the  lost  spirits,  whom  the  forbearance  of  God  Himself 
leads  not  to  repentance  but  only  to  added  sin. 

But  if  you  have  ever  by  the  sweet  spirit  of  Christ 
so  mastered  your  natural  impulse  as  to  return  good 
for  evil  lovingly  and  whole-heartedly,  and  if  you  have 
seen  the  regenerating  effect  in  the  beautiful  subjugation 
of  your  foe  and  his  transformation  into  a  friend,  it  is 


324  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

not  necessary  to  say  much  of  the  reward  which  God 
has  in  store  for  you.     Do  you  not  already  possess  it  ? 

Yet  the  reward  is  certainly  greater  than  you  are 
able  at  once  to  apprehend.  For  what  a  secret  is  this 
which  you  possess,  the  secret  of  turning  even  the 
malignity  of  foes  into  the  sweetest  affection,  the  secret 
which  lay  in  the  heart  of  God  as  the  spring  and  the 
means  of  man's  redemption.-^  The  highest  reward  that 
God  can  give  to  His  creatures  is  to  make  them  par- 
takers of  His  nature  as  He  has  made  them  in  His  own 
image.  When  we  share  in  a  Divine  attribute  we  enter 
so  far  into  the  Divine  bliss  ;  and  in  proportion  as  this 
attribute  seems  removed  from  our  common  human 
nature,  our  spirit  must  exult  to  find  that  it  has  been 
really  appropriated.  What  further  reward,  then,  can 
he  who  avenges  not  himself  desire  ?  The  pulse  of  the 
Divine  heart  beats  in  him  ;  the  tides  of  the  Divine  life 
flow  through  him.  He  is  like  God — God  who  opposes 
to  man's  ingratitude  the  ocean  of  His  pardoning  love ; 
he  is  conscious  of  that  which  is  the  fountain  of  joy  in 
the  Divine  Being ;  surely  a  man  must  be  satisfied  when 
he  awakes  in  God's  likeness  !  And  that  satisfaction 
comes  to  every  one  who  has  heaped  coals  of  fire  on  his 
enemy's  head  by  feeding  him  in  his  hunger,  and  giving 
him  water  when  athirst.  Say  not,  *'I  will  do  so  to 
him  as  he  has  done  to  me,  I  will  render  to  the  man 
according  to  his  work."  Love  your  enemies ;  pray  for 
them  which  despitefully  use  you. 

^  Cf.    the   proverb,    "  When   a    man's   ways  please   the   Lord   He 
maketh  even  his  enemies  to  be  at  peace  with  him  "  (Prov.  xvi.  7). 


XXV. 

THE    KING. 

"  It  is  the  glory  of  God  to  conceal  a  thing,  but  the  glory  of  kings  is  to 

search  out  a  matter. 
The  heaven  for  height  and  the  earth  for  depth,  and  the  heart  of 

ki)tgs  is  unsearchable. 
Take  away  the  dross  from  the  silver,  and    there  cometh  forth  a 

vessel  for  the  finer  ; 
Take  away  the  wicked  from  before  the  king,  and  his  throne  shall 

be  established  in  righteousness. 
Put  not  thj'self  forward  in  the  presence  of  the  king,  and  stand  not 

in  the  presence  of  gi'eat  men  : 
Far  better  is  it  that  it  be  said  unto  thee,  Come  up  hither,  than  that 

thou  shouldest  be  put  lower  in  the  presence  of  the  prince  whom 

thine  eyes  have  seen." — Prov.  xxv.  2-7. 

IT  will  be  remembered  that  in  the  book  of  Samuel 
there  are  two  accounts  of  the  monarchy  and  its 
origin  lying  side  by  side, — different,  and  to  all  appear- 
ance irreconcilable.  One  set  of  passages  seems  to 
imply  that  the  king  was  appointed  by  God's  holy 
purpose  to  fulfil  the  objects  of  His  government.  But 
another  set  of  passages  seems  to  represent  the  out- 
cry for  a  king  as  a  rebellion  against  the  sovereignty 
of  the  Lord,  and  the  appointment  of  a  king  as  a 
punishment  for  the  people's  sin.  It  is  in  agreement 
with  the  first  idea  that  provision  is  made  in  the  Law 
for  a   monarchical  government ;    but   it   is    in   agree- 


326  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

ment  with  the  second  idea  that  the  actual  kings  prove 
to  be  for  the  most  part  incompetent  and  faithless 
rulers,  "  who  do  evil  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,"  and  that 
even  the  best  of  them  fall  into  gross  sins,  or  are  at  any 
rate  guilty  of  grave  errors.  Thus  David  stumbled  into  a 
miry  pit ;  Jehoshaphat  experienced  defeat  in  his  alliance 
with  Ahab  ;  Josiah  was  slain  at  the  battle  of  Megiddo  ; 
Uzziah  was  smitten  with  leprosy ;  and  Hezekiah  com- 
mitted an  imprudence  which  incidentally  brought  the 
great  calamity  upon  his  country.     So  it  is  all  through. 

Now  the  only  satisfactory  explanation  that  this  two- 
fold aspect  of  the  kingship  seems  to  admit  of  is  one 
which  goes  deep  down  into  the  prophetic  and  inspired 
character  of  Israel  and  its  history.  The  king  in  his 
ideal  aspect  is  throughout  a  type  and  a  foreshadowing 
of  the  Anointed  One  that  was  to  come  ;  and  the  actual 
failure  of  all  the  kings  to  realize  the  ideal,  to  govern 
wisely,  to  establish  righteousness,  or  even  to  observe 
the  moral  law  in  their  own  persons,  necessarily  threw 
men's  thoughts  forward  to  Him  who  should  sit  upon 
the  throne  of  David,  and  carry  out  in  ways  not  yet 
realized  or  even  conceived  the  noble  and  exalted  ideas 
which  clustered  round  the  theocratic  throne.  Many 
hasty  critics  have  been  swift  to  see  and  to  censure  the 
ignoble  failures  of  the  men  who  sat  upon  the  thrones 
of  Judah  and  Israel ;  some  critics  have  developed  with 
sufficient  clearness  the  noble  ideal  which  always 
underlay  the  monarchy  even  in  the  moments  of  its 
deepest  decline.  But  comparatively  few  have  seen 
the  significance  of  this  contrast  between  the  ideal  and 
the  actual;  and  consequently  only  a  few  have  per- 
ceived with  what  a  prolonged  and  emphatic  voice  the 
whole  story  of  the  Kings  spoke  of  Christ. 


XXV.  2-7-1  THE   KING.  327 

The  contrast  just  pointed  out  in  the  historic  books 
appears  with  equal  distinctness  in  this  book  of  Wisdom  ; 
the  proverbial  sayings  about  the  king  exhibit  the  two- 
fold thought  ;  and  the  reconciliation  is  only  found 
when  we  have  realized  the  Kingship  of  Christ  and  can 
bring  that  idea  to  explain  the  ancient  forecast.  Thus 
the  study  of  the  things  concerning  the  king  is  to  the 
thoughtful  reader  of  the  Proverbs  a  study  of  the  things 
concerning  Christ.  The  ideal  elements  speak  of  Him  ; 
the  actual  shortcomings  cry  out  for  Him. 

First  we  will  review  what  is  said  to  the  glory  and 
honour  of  the  king.  He  comes  before  us  as  the 
embodiment  of  righteousness.^  "  It  is  an  abomination 
to  kings  to  commit  wickedness,  for  the  throne  is 
established  by  righteousness.  Righteous  lips  are  the 
delight  of  kings,  and  they  love  him  that  speaketh 
right."  -  "  A  king  that  sitteth  on  the  throne  of  judg- 
ment winnoweth  away  all  evil  with  his  eyes.  ...  A 
wise  king  winnoweth  the  wicked  and  bringeth  the 
threshing  wheel  over  them."  ^  As  he  purges  the 
wicked,  so  he  encourages  the  righteous  :  "  Pie  that 
loveth  pureness  of  heart  hath  grace  on  his  lips,  the 
king  shall  be  his  friend."  ^  There  is  a  great  severity 
in    his    government  :    "  The    wrath    of  a    king    is    as 

'  It  will  be  observed  that,  speaking  generally,  the  early  proverbs 
present  the  more  favourable  side  of  the  kingship,  and  the  later 
proverbs  suggest  a  period  of  decline  (see  Introduction).  Pos- 
sibly the  same  test  may  serve  to  distinguish  the  passages  in 
Deuteronomy  and  the  book  of  Samuel ;  the  brighter  thought  that 
the  king  was  originally  intended  by  God  may  come  from  the  early 
days  when  the  kings  still  promised  well,  and  the  darker  thought 
which  crosses  the  optimistic  picture  may  emanate  from  the  period 
when  their  failure  and  decline  were  unmistakable. 

^  Prov.  xvi.  12,  13.  ^  Prov.  xx.  8,  26,  ^  Prov.  xxii.  11, 


328  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

messengers  of  death  ;  and  a  wise  man  will  pacify  it."  ^ 
^'  The  king's  wrath  is  as  the  roaring  of  a  lion."  ^  On 
the  other  hand,  his  mercy  is  one  with  his  severity  : 
*'  His  favour  is  as  dew  upon  the  grass."  ^  ^'  In  the 
light  of  the  king's  countenance  is  life,  and  his  favour 
is  as  a  cloud  of  the  latter  rain."  ^  '*  Mercy  and  truth 
preserve  the  king,  and  his  throne  is  upholden  by 
mercy."  ^  The  fact  is  that  his  government  is  a  vice- 
royalty.  He  is  the  human  instrument  of  the  Divine 
Will.  *'  The  king's  heart  is  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord  ; 
as  the  watercourses" — which  the  farmer  directs  and 
leads  over  his  fields  according  to  his  purpose — '*  he 
turneth  it  whithersoever  he  will."  ^  Thus  the  king 
expresses  precisely  the  Lord's  favour  towards  a 
servant  that  dealeth  wisely,  and  the  Lord's  wrath 
against  him  that  causeth  shame."  ^  The  king  manifests 
the  Lord's  spirit  in  dealing  with  the  subject,  judging 
the  cause  of  the  poor  as  the  Lord  does.  "  The  king 
that  judgeth  faithfully  the  poor,  his  throne  shall  be 
established  for  ever."''  He  is,  in  a  word,  a  manifesta- 
tion— a  revelation — of  God  Himself.  "  The  glory  of 
God  is  to  conceal  a  thing,"  />.,  to  be  unsearchable  and 
unknowable,  ''  and  the  glory  of  kings  is  to  search  a 
matter  out;"  the  king,  searching  the  deep  things  of 
God,  and  becoming  the  interpreter  of  the  Divine  will 
to  men,  is  Himself  in  the  place  of  God  to  us.  ''  The 
heaven  for  height  and  the  earth  for  depth,  and  the 
heart  of  kings  there  is  no  searching,"  Reflecting  the 
righteousness,  the  mercy,  the  power  of  God,  his  throne 
is    bathed  in   the  celestial   light.     ''Take   away  dross 

'  Prov.  xvi.  14.  ■•  Prov.  xx.  28.  ^  Prov.  xiv.  35. 

^  Prov.  xix.  12.  ^  Prov,  xxi,  I.  "  Prov.  xxix.  14. 

^  Prov.  xvi.  15. 


XXV.  2-7]  THE  KING.  329 


from  the  silver,  and  there  cometh  forth  a  vessel  for  the 
liner  ;  take  away  evil  from  before  the  king,  and  his 
throne  shall  be  fixed  in  justice."  ^ 

In  the  presence  of  such  a  sovereign  the  subject  may 
well  abase  himself,  even  the  greatest  and  wisest  may 
count  himself  small.  "  Glorify  not  thyself  before  a 
king,  and  in  the  place  of  the  great  do  not  stand.  For 
better  is  it  that  it  be  said  to  thee,  Come  up  hither, 
than  that  thou  shouldest  be  put  lower  in  the  presence 
of  a  prince  whom  thine  eyes  have  seen."  - 

Rebellion  against  such  a  sovereign  is  the  merest 
infatuation.  "Against  him  there  is  no  rising  up."'^ 
"  The  terror  of  the  king  is  as  the  roaring  of  a  lion,  he 
that  provoketh  him  to  anger  sinneth  against  his  own 
life."  ^  "  My  son,  fear  thou  the  Lord  and  the  king,  and 
meddle  not  with  them  who  are  given  to  change  ;  for 
their  calamity  shall  rise  suddenly  ;  and  who  knoweth  the 
destruction  of  them  both."  ^ 

It  is  evident  that  in  all  this  we  have  an  ideal  picture. 
No  king  that  ever  sat  on  an  earthly  throne,  no  David 
or  Hezekiah,  no  Antoninus  or  Trajan,  no  Charlemagne 
or  St.  Louis,  no  Alfred  or  Edward  the  First,  ever  in  the 
faintest  degree  approached  the  fulfilment  of  the  ideal. 
The  divinity  which  hedged  them  was  of  quite  a  different 
kind  from  this  open  vision  of  God,  this  human  mediator- 
ship,  this  absolute  subjection  to  the  Divine  will.  And 
when  we  leave  the  select  class  of  great  and  good  kings, 
and  look  at  the  ordinary  type  of  the  strong  and  capable 
ruler,  Saul  or  Ahab,  Alexander  or  Coesar,  Constantine 
or  Diocletian,  Clovis  or  Rollo,  William  the  Conqueror  or 

'  Prov.  XXV.  2-5.  •*  Prov.  xx.  2. 

^  Prov.  XXV.  6,  7.  ^  Pro\-.  xxiv.  21,  22. 

*  Prov.  XXX.  31. 


330  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

Henry  II.,  Louis  XIV.  or  Frederick  the  Great,  the  Czar 
Peter  or  Napoleon,  we  see  at  once  that  we  have  passed 
into  a  region  of  thought  and  action  where  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  Proverbs  becomes  unreal  and  visionary. 

There  is  but  one  way  of  explaining  the  language 
before  us.  //  points  to  Christ.  In  Him  alone  is  it  or 
can  it  be  realized.  He  is  the  only  sovereign  that  has 
any  union  with  God  which  is  at  all  like  identity.  He 
is  the  only  Ruler  who  blends  with  absolute  infallibihty 
severity  and  mercy.  Of  what  other  king  could  it  be 
said  that  "purity  of  heart"  secures  His  friendship? 
What  other  king  has  made  it  his  first  and  supreme 
object  to  judge  faithfully  the  poor?  What  other 
government  but  His  has  sought  its  security  in  that 
essential  duty  and  its  fulfilment  ?  It  is  Christ  alone 
whose  favour  descends  on  the  heart  like  dew  on  the 
grass,  or  as  a  cloud  of  the  latter  rain.  His  is  the  only 
rule  against  which  rebellion  is  more  than  a  political 
crime,  and  becomes  an  actual  sin.  Of  Him  alone  can 
it  be  said  with  any  breadth  of  meaning  or  certainty  of 
fulfilment,  "Let  no  falsehood  from  the  tongue  be 
spoken  to  the  King,  and  no  falsehood  shall  go  out  of 
his  mouth.  A  sword  is  the  king's  tongue,  and  that 
not  of  flesh."  ^  It  is  only  a  king  absolutely  righteous 
and  absolutely  merciful  that  can  ever  bear  down  with 
effective  force  upon  lies  and  liars.  It  is  only  He  that 
would  see  in  lying  the  prime  sin,  the  incurable  disease, 
the  unpardonable  treason. 

'  The  LXX.  of  xxiv.  23,  which  adds  a  passage  not  appropriate  to 
Christ,  "Whosoever  is  delivered  up  to  him  shall  be  crushed.  For  if 
his  temper  be  exasperated,  he  consumes  men,  sinews  and  all,  and 
crunches  their  bones,  and  burns  them  up  as  a  flame,  so  that  they  are 
uneatable  to  the  young  of  eagles." 


-7.]  THE   KING.  331 


The  King  is  Christ.  Before  He  came  there  was  in 
the  line  of  His  foreshadowing  a  typical  Divine  right  of 
kings.  But  since  His  coming  all  such  kingships  have 
been  anachronisms.  The  appeal  which  used  to  be 
made  to  the  Old  Testament  to  support  that  famous 
political  dogma  was  indeed  its  surest  refutation  and 
condemnation.  For  all  that  is  said  there  of  the  inde- 
feasible prerogative,  coupled  as  it  is  with  an  infallibility 
of  judgment,  a  perfect  moral  goodness,  and  an  irresis- 
tible power,  applied  and  could  apply  only  to  Christ. 
Where  absolute  monarchy  is  not  Christship  it  becomes, 
as  so  many  familiar  passages  in  the  Old  Testament 
show,  a  tyranny  and  an  oppression,  a  cause  of  national 
corruption  and  decay. 

Now  this  leads  us,  in  the  second  place,  to  notice  how 
the  actual  failure  and  consequent  mischief  of  the  king- 
ship are  reflected  in  the  proverbs,  and  especially  those 
later  proverbs  which  date  from  the  decline  and  fall  of 
the  monarchy.  We  have  only  to  glance  over  the  books 
of  Samuel  and  Kings  to  see  what  kind  of  men  the 
occupants  of  the  throne  were ;  few  of  them  show  any 
marked  ability,  most  of  them  by  their  folly  and  stupidity 
lead  their  people  with  hurried  strides  towards  the 
threatened  catastrophe.  So  far  from  acting  as  vice- 
gerents of  the  Lord,  it  is  their  special  characteristic 
that  they  are  the  authors  of  the  prevailing  religious 
apostasy.  Even  the  more  favourable  exceptions,  the 
kings  who  in  the  main  did  what  was  right  in  the  eyes 
of  the  Lord,  had  not  spiritual  energy  enough  to  purify 
the  worship  and  restore  the  allegiance  of  their  people 
to  the  Lord.  Now  it  would  be  some  insolent  and  wit- 
less tyrant  who  would  desolate  the  country  and  drive 
his  subjects  into  revolt.     "A  raging  lion,  a  ravening 


332  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

bear,  a  wicked  ruler  over  a  poor  people.  O  prince,  that 
lackest  understanding  and  art  a  great  oppressor,  he  that 
hateth  rapine  shall  prolong  his  days."  ^  Now  it  would 
be  a  headstrong  prince  who  would  scorn  all  counsel,  and, 
refusing  to  be  advised,  would  himself  retire  from  the 
helm  of  the  state.  "  Where  no  wise  steering  is,  the 
people  falleth  ;  but  in  the  multitude  of  counsellors  there 
is  safety."  ^  Setting  aside  the  maxim,  "  Every  purpose 
is  established  by  counsel,  and  by  wise  guidance  make 
thou  war,"^  his  purposes  would  be  disappointed.^  Now 
the  earth  would  be  burdened  and  tremble  with  the 
portent  of  a  servant  as  king;^  one  who  as  a  servant 
might  be  excellent,  but  once  on  the  throne  would  reveal 
all  the  weaknesses  and  vices  which  are  essentially 
servile.'^  Now  a  liar  would  occupy  the  throne,  and 
lying  lips  ill  become  a  prince.'  And  now,  owing  to  the 
weakness  and  folly  of  the  prince,  the  state  would  fall 
into  pieces  and  be  torn  with  wildly  contending  factions  : 
*'  For  the  transgression  of  a  land  many  are  the  princes 
thereof,  but  by  a  man  of  understanding  and  knowledge 
right  will  be  prolonged."^  Under  the  rule  of  the 
wicked,  population  disappears.^  And  while  "  in  the 
multitude  of  people  is  4;he  king's  glory,  in  the  want  of 
people  is  the  destruction  of  the  prince."  ^*^  Under  the 
tyrant's  sway  "  the  people  sigh."  "  Their  persons  are 
insecure,  and  their  property  is  taken  from  them  in  the 
form  of  forced  gifts  or  benevolences.^^     And  as  the  king, 


Prov.  xxyiii.  15,  16. 

Prov.  xi.   15.     The  image   from    steering  survives   in   our   own 

governor  (gubernator).  ^  Prov.  xxviii.  12. 

^  Prov.  XX.  18.                     ^  Prov.  xxx.  22.  '»  Prov.  xiv.  28. 

■*  Prov.  XV.  22.                     ^  Prov.  xvii.  7.  "  Prov,  xxix.  2. 

*  See  I  Kings  xvi.  7.          ^  Prov.  xxviii.  2.  '-  Prov.  xxix.  4 


XXV.  2-7.]  THE  KING.  333 

such  are  his  servants ;  his  readiness  to  hearken  to 
falsehood  renders  them  all  wicked.^  The  atmosphere 
of  the  court  becomes  corrupt :  all  truth,  sincerity,  purity 
disappear.  The  courtier  is  afraid  to  speak  his  mind, 
lest  jealous  listeners  should  report  the  words  to  the 
monarch's  suspicious  ear.  The  very  freedom  of  social 
life  disappears,  and  the  table  of  the  king  becomes  a  trap 
to  the  unwary.  "  When  thou  sittest  to  eat  with  a  ruler, 
consider  diligently  him  that  is  before  thee,  and  put  a 
knife  to  thy  throat  if  thou  be  a  man  given  to  appetite ; 
be  not  desirous  of  his  dainties,  seeing  they  are  deceitful 
meat." "" 

Here  is  the  complete  and  absolute  corruption  of  the 
Divine  royalty.  The  description  holds  true  age  after 
age  ;  suggested  by  the  decline  of  the  monarchy  in  Israel, 
it  applies  accurately  to  the  Imperial  government  at 
Rome,  and  it  might  have  been  written  to  describe  the 
character  and  the  government  of  the  Stuarts  in  England. 
Strong  in  what  they  supposed  to  be  their  Divine  Right, 
they  became  liars  and  hearkened  to  falsehood ;  their 
servants  became  wicked ;  their  government  perished 
from  its  own  inherent  rottenness.  The  description 
holds  too  of  the  French  monarchy  from  the  time  of 
Louis  XIV.  to  its  fall.  And  it  would  seem,  as  indeed  we 
may  confidently  believe,  that  the  slow  and  imperceptible 
decay  of  the  faith  in  the  divine  right  of  kings  has  been 


'  Prov.  xxix.  12.  Cf.  Ecclesiasticus  x.  2:  "As  the  judge  of  the 
people  is  himself,  so  are  his  officers ;  and  what  manner  of  man  the 
ruler  of  the  city  is,  such  are  they  also  that  dwell  therein." 

'^  Prov.  xxiii.  I -3.  Cf.  the  Eastern  adage,  "Dainties  of  a  king 
burn  the  lips."  It  was  a  common  occurrence  at  the  court  of  Pope 
Alexander  VI.  to  invite  an  obnoxious  person  to  tlic  Papal  table  and 
there  dispose  of  him  by  means  of  poisoned  food. 


334  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


in  God's  hands  a  long  preparation  for  the  reign  of 
Him  whose  right  it  is  to  reign,  Jesus  Christ,  the  true 
King  of  men. 

But  there  is  still  one  other  characteristic  cause  of 
the  perverted  kingship,  to  which  attention  is  drawn  in 
xxxi.  2-8  :  ''  Give  not  thy  strength  unto  women,  nor 
thy  ways  to  that  which  destroyeth  kings.  It  is  not 
for  kings,  O  Lemuel,  it  is  not  for  kings  to  drink  wine, 
nor  for  princes  to  say,  Where  is  strong  drink  ?  Lest 
they  drink  and  forget  the  law,  and  pervert  the  judg- 
ment of  any  that  is  afflicted."  These  fleshly  vices  are 
peculiarly  common  and  peculiarly  ruinous  to  kings, 
preventing  them  from  pleading  *'  the  cause  of  such  as 
are  left  desolate,"  and  from  *'  ministering  judgment  to 
the  poor  and  needy." ^  It  is  in  realizing  the  private 
life  of  kings,  and  in  observing  how  seldom  they  have 
practised  temperance,  chastity,  self-control,  and  how 
readily  their  contemporaries  and  even  posterity  have 
dispensed  them  from  these  primary  obligations,  that 
we  plainly  recognise  the  broad  divergence  between 
the  facts  of  earthly  monarchies  and  the  description 
of  the  heavenly  monarchy,  and  thus  are  prepared  to 
recognise  with  gratitude  and  awe  the  sole  sovereignty 
of  Christ.  The  cry  of  the  Florentines  under  the  tem- 
porary excitement  created  by  Savonarola's  preaching 
was,  "  Jesus  is  our  King,  only  Jesus."  That  is  the 
constant  and  ever-swelling  cry  of  human  hearts.  The 
types  and  shadows  fall  away;  through  the  forms  the 
spirit  becomes  apparent.  It  is  Christ  that  claims  and 
wins  and  enchains  our  loyalty.  We  are  His  subjects, 
He  is  our  absolute  Lord ;  we  have  no  king  but  Jesus. 

'  Prov.  xxxi.  8,  9. 


XXV.  2-7.]  THE  KING.  335 


There  is  in  every  human  heart  a  loyalty  which  seeks 
for  a  fitting  object;  if  it  finds  no  lawful  king,  it  will 
attach  itself  to  a  pretender.  What  pathos  there  is  in 
the  sacrifice  which  men  have  made,  and  in  the  deeds 
which  they  have  dared,  for  Pretenders  who  have  had  no 
claim  upon  their  devotion  or  allegiance  !  "  Show  me  my 
rightful  sovereign,"  seems  to  be  the  implicit  demand 
of  us  all.  And  the  answer  has  been  given,  "  Behold, 
your  king  cometh  unto  you,"  in  the  lowly  person,  but 
commanding  majesty,  of  Jesus.  Many  have  accepted 
this  and  have  cried,  "  Blessed  is  the  king  that  cometh 
in  the  name  of  the  Lord."  ^ 

Shall  we  not  bring  our  loyalty  to  Him,  recognising 
the  One  whom  prophets  and  wise  men  foretold,  and 
acknowledging  in  His  sway  the  authority  which  all 
other  governments,  even  the  best  of  them,  lack  ?  Let 
no  false  shame  or  fear  restrain  our  homage  ;  let  not 
the  sneers  of  those  over  whom  "  other  lords  have  do- 
minion "  keep  our  knees  from  bending,  and  our  tongues 
from  confessing,  '*  The  fear  of  man  bringeth  a  snare ; 
but  whoso  putteth  his  trust  in  the  Lord  shall  be  safe. 
Many  seek  the  ruler's  favour," — their  whole  thought  is 
to  stand  well  with  the  powers  that  be,  and  to  secure 
the  recognition  of  the  Pretender  who  happens  at  any 
given  moment  to  be  directing  the  affairs  of  the  world, — 
"  but  a  man's  judgment  cometh  from  the  Lord,"  his 
rightful  King,^  and  to  stand  right  with  Him  is  all 
that  need  concern  us.  How  well  the  King  of  men 
understood  that  because  He  came  in  humility — His 
birthplace  a  manger,  His  throne  a  fishing-boat  or  a 
wayside  well,  riding  not  in  chariots  of  state,  "  but  on  an 

'  Luke  xix.  38.  *  Prov,  xxix.  25,  26. 


336  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

ass,  and  the  foal  of  an  ass  ;  "  because  His  appeal  would 
be,  not  to  the  eye,  but  to  the  heart ;  not  to  the  outward, 
but  the  inward  ;  not  to  the  temporal,  but  to  the  eternal, 
— men,  with  their  perverted  and  misapplied  loyalties, 
would  reject  Him  and  be  ashamed  to  confess  Him. 
False  kingships  have  dazzled  our  eyes,  and  hidden 
from  us  the  grandeur  of  a  Sovereign  who  is  among  us 
as  one  that  ser\'eth.  From  the  touch  of  His  humiliation 
we  shrink. 

But  if  the  heart  recognises  and  owns  its  lawful 
Sovereign  ;  if,  captivated  by  His  indescribable  beauty 
and  bowed  before  His  indisputable  authority,  it  seeks 
only  in  profound  obeisance  and  absolute  surrender,  to 
worship  and  adore  and  serve,  how  ro3^al  is  His  treat- 
ment, how  unstinted  are  His  largesses.  "Come  up 
hither,"  He  says,  bringing  the  soul  higher  and  higher, 
into  fuller  vision,  into  more  buoyant  life,  into  more 
effectual  service.  The  evil  ruler,  we  saw,  made  all 
his  ser\^ants  wicked.  Christ,  as  King,  makes  all  His 
servants  hoty,  dwelling  in  them,  and  subduing  their 
hearts  to  Himself  in  ever  truer  devotion  ;  He  through 
them  carries  out  His  vast  designs  of  love  in  those 
portions  of  His  dominion  where  rebels  still  rise  up 
against  Him,  and  where  poor  deluded  hearts  still 
fretfully  cry,  ''We  will  not  have  this  ]\Ian  to  rule  over 
us."  "  In  the  multitude  of  people  is  the  king's  glory." 
May  God  hasten  the  time  when  all  peoples  and  tongues 
shall  bow  down  to  and  worship  our  King  ! 


XXVI. 

THE    FOOL. 

"  As  snow   in   summer,    and    as    rain   in   harvest,  so  honour  is  not 

seemly  for  a  fool.  .  .  . 
A  whip  for  the  horse,  a  bridle  for  the  ass,  and  a  rod  for  the  back 

of  fools. 
Answer  not  a  fool  according  to  his  folly,  lest  thou  also  be  like  unto 

him. 
Answer   a  fool  according  to  his  folly,   lest  he    be  wise  in  his  own 

conceit. 
He  that   sendeth  a   message   by  the  hand  of  a  fool  cutteth  off  his 

own  feet,  and  drinketh  in  damage. 
The  legs  of  the  lame  hang  loose :  so  is  a  parable  in  the  mouth  of 

fools. 
As  a  bag  of  gems  in  a  heap  of  stones,  so  is  he  that  giveth  honour 

to  a  fool. 
As  a   thorn  that   goeth  up  into    the  hand    of  a   drunkard,    so    is  a 

parable  in  the  mouth  of  fools. 
As  an  archer  that  woundeth  all,  so  is  he  that  hireth  the  fool   and 

he  that  hireth  them  that  pass  by. 
As  a  dog  that    returneth  to  his  vomit,  so   is   a   fool  that  repeateth 

his  folly. 
Seest   thou    a  man    wise   in  his   own   conceit  ?  there  is  more  hope 

of  a  fool  than  of  him." — Prov.  xxvi.  I,  3-12. 

THIS  passage  points  out  certain  characteristics  of 
the  fool,  a  term  which  occurs  so  frequently  in 
the  book  of  Proverbs  that  we  must  try  to  conceive 
clearly  what  is  to  be  understood  by  it.  The  difficulty 
of  forming  a  distinct  conception  arises  from  the  fact 
that   there    are    three    different    words,    with    different 

22 


338  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

shades  of  meaning,  all  rendered  by  the  one  English 
expression,  fool  or  folly.  For  want  of  carefully  dis- 
tinguishing these  delicate  varieties  of  the  original,  some 
of  the  proverbs  appear  in  English  tautological  and 
almost  meaningless.  We  must  try  then  to  separate 
and  to  undefstand  these  several  terms. 

The  Hebrew  word  which  most  frequently  occurs  in 
the  book  to  designate  fool,  ?^l^?,  together  with  its  de- 
rivative, which  is  the  usual  word  for  folly,  ^??.^*,  signifies 
weakness.  We  are  to  think  of  that  ignorant,  incon- 
siderate, sanguine,  and  self-confident  temper  which 
eschews  counsel,  which  will  have  its  own  way,  which 
decHnes  to  be  governed  by  reason,  which  forms  fond 
expectations  and  baseless  hopes,  and  which  is  always 
sure  that  everything  will  turn  out  according  to  its  wish, 
though  it  takes  no  means  to  secure  the  desired  result. 
Perhaps  the  simplest  way  of  describing  the  habit  of  mind 
and  the  type  of  character  intended  by  the  Plebrew  is 
to  use  the  word  infatuation.  This  would  not  do  as  c. 
translation  in  all  the  passages  where  it  occurs,  but  i^ 
will  serve  to  point  out  the  underlying  idea.  I 

The  word  which  comes  next  in  frequency,  ''^P|, — the/^ 
word  used  uniformly  throughout  the  particular  passage/-' 
before  us, — has  at  its  root  the  notion  of  grossness,  the  ? 
dull  and  heavy  habit  of  one  whose  heart  has  waxec 
fat,  whose  ears  are   slow  to   hear,  and  whose  higher 
perceptions  and  nobler  aspirations  have  succumbed  to 
the  sensual  and  earthly  nature.     We  have  to  think  of 
moral,  as  well  as  mental,  stupidity,  of  insensibility  to 
all  that  is  true  and  good  and  pure.     The  fool  in  this 
sense  is  such  a  dullard   that  he  commits  wickedness 
without    perceiving   it,^    and    utters    slanders    almost 

'  Prov.  X.  23. 


:xvi.  1,3-12.]  THE  FOOL. 


unconsciously ;  ^  he  does  not  know  when  to  be  silent ;  '^ 
whatever  is  in  him  quickly  appears,^  but  when  it  is 
known  it  is  very  worthless ;  ^  nor  has  he  the  sense  to 
get  wisdom,  even  when  the  opportunity  is  in  his  hand  ; '' 
his  best  advantages  are  quickly  wasted  and  he  is  none 
the  better.^  Perhaps  the  English  word  which  best  fits 
the  several  suggestions  of  the  Hebrew  one  is  sense/ess. 

The  third  term,  ^??,  occurs  only  four  times  in  the 
book.  It  is  derived  from  a  verb  signifying  to  fade  and 
wither.  It  describes  the  inward  shrinking  and  shrivel- 
ling of  a  depraved  nature,  the  witlessness  which  results 
from  wickedness.  It  contains  in  itself  a  severer  cen- 
sure than  the  other  two.  Thus  "  He  that  begetteth 
a  senseless  man  (^^P?)  doeth  it  to  his  sorrow,  but  the 
father  of  the  bad  fool  (^^P)  hath  no  joy."^  In  the  one 
case  there  is  trouble  enough,  in  the  other  there  is 
nothing  but  trouble.  Thus  it  is  one  of  the  four  things 
-for  which  the  earth  trembles  when  a  man  of  this  kind 
is  filled  with  meat.*^  This  third  character  is  sketched 
for  us  in  the  person  of  Nabal,  whose  name,  as  Abigail 
says,  is  simply  the  Hebrew  word  for  fool  in  its  worst 
sense,  which  fits  exactly  to  its  bearer.  But  dismissing 
this  type  of  folly  which  is  almost  synonymous  with 
consummate  wickedness,  of  which  indeed  it  is  the  out- 
come, we  may  turn  to  the  distinction  we  have  drawn 
between  infatuation  and  senselessness  in  order  to 
explain  and  understand  some  of  the  Proverbs  in  which 
the  words  occur. 

First  of  all  we  may  notice  how  difficult  it  is  to  get 

'  Prov.  X.  1 8.  *  Prov.  xvii.  i6. 

^  Prov.  xii.  23.  ®  Prov.  xxi.  20. 

'  Prov.  xiv.  33.  '  Prov.  xvii.  21. 

*  Prov.  xiv.  7.  '  Prov.  xxx.  22. 


340  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

rid  of  the  folly  of  infatuation  :  "  Though  thou  shouldest 
bray  a  person  possessed  of  it  in  a  mortar  with  a  pestle 
among  bruised  corn,  yet  will  it  not  depart  from  him."  ^ 
"  It  is  bound  up  in  the  heart  of  a  child,"  ^  and  the 
whole  object  of  education  is  to  get  it  out;  but  if  child- 
hood passes  into  manhood,  and  the  childish  wilfulness, 
self-confidence,  and  irrationality  are  not  expelled,  the 
case  is  well-nigh  hopeless.  Correction  is  practically 
useless  ;  "  He  must  be  a  thorough  fool,"  it  has  been 
said,  "  who  can  learn  nothing  from  his  own  folly ; "  but 
that  is  precisely  the  condition  of  the  infatuated  people 
we  are  considering;  the  only  correction  of  their  infatua- 
tion is  a  further  increase  of  it.^  The  reason  is  practi- 
cally choked ;  the  connection  between  cause  and  effect 
is  lost :  thus  every  ill  consequence  of  the  rash  act  or 
of  the  vicious  habit  is  regarded  as  a  misfortune  instead 
of  a  fault.  The  wretched  victim  of  his  own  folly  reviles 
fortune,  nature,  men,  and  even  God,  and  will  not 
recognise  that  his  worst  enemy  is  himself.  Thus,  while 
the  wise  are  always  learning  and  growing  rich  from 
experience,  ^*  the  infatuation  of  senseless  men  is  in- 
fatuation still."  *  It  is  this  which  makes  them  so 
hopeless  to  deal  with ;  their  vexation  being  quite 
irrational,  and  always  refusing  to  recognise  the  obvious 
facts,  is  worse  than  a  heavy  stone  or  the  piled-up  over- 


*  Prov,  xxvii.  22.  ^  Prov.  xxii.  15.  ^  Prov.  xvi.  22. 

*  Prov.  xiv.  24.  This  seems  simpler  than  supposing  that  the  clause 
D.'P:1^?  Dy''p5  Tv>)]A  contains  a  play  upon  the  possible  double  meaning 
of  ri?|lNj  which,  though  it  yields  an  excellent  sense, — "  the  power  of 
fools  is  only  folly,"  i.e.,  when  they  have  power  they  turn  it  only  to  a 
foolish  account  {cf.  xxvi.  l), — must  be  regarded  as  very  obscure, 
especially  seeing  that  we  have  no  positive  instance  of  n./.^.^  ^s  a 
derivative  of  TJ-IN  in  the  sense  of  "  power." 


xxvi.  1,3-12.]  THE   FOOL.  341 


weight  of  sand  for  others  to  bear.^  If  a  wise  man 
has  a  case  with  such  a  person,  the  ill-judged  fury  and 
the  misplaced  laughter  alike  make  it  impossible  to 
arrive  at  any  sound  settlement.^ 

The  untrained,  undisciplined  nature,  which  thus 
declines  the  guidance  of  reason  and  is  unteachable 
because  of  its  obstinate  self-confidence,  is  constantly 
falling  into  sin.  Indeed,  strictly  speaking,  its  whole 
attitude  is  sinful,  its  every  thought  is  sin.^  For  reason 
is  God's  gift,  and  to  slight  it  is  to  slight  Him.  He 
requires  of  us  a  readiness  to  be  taught,  and  an  openness 
to  the  lessons  which  are  forced  upon  us  by  Nature,  by 
experience,  by  our  own  human  hearts.  This  flighty, 
feather-brained,  inconsequential  mode  of  thinking  and 
living,  the  wilful  neglect  of  all  the  means  by  which  we 
might  grow  wiser,  and  the  confident  assurance  that, 
whatever  happens,  we  are  not  accountable  for  it,  are 
all  an  offence  against  God,  a  failure  to  be  what  we 
ought  to  be,  a  missing  of  the  mark,  a  neglect  of  the 
law,  which  is,  in  a  word,  sin. 

But  now  let  us  look  at  the  fool  in  the  second  signi- 
fication, which  occurs  in  this  twenty-sixth  chapter  so 
frequently, — the  man  who  has  become  spiritually  gross 
and  insensible,  unaware  of  Divine  truths  and  con- 
sequently obtuse  to  human  duties.  We  may  take  the 
proverbs  in  the  order  in  which  they  occur.  "  As  snow 
in  summer,  and  as  rain  in  harvest,  so  honour  is  net 
seemly  for  a  fool."  It  is  a  melancholy  fact  that  the 
kind  of  person  here  referred  to  is  too  often  found  in 
positions  of  honour  among  men.  Men  rise  to  distinction 
in  an  artificial  order  of  society,  not  by  wisdom,  but  by 

'  Prov.  xxvii.  3.  -  Prov.  xxix.  9.  '  Prov.  xxiv.  9. 


342  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

the  accident  of  birth  and  opportunity ;  and  not  un- 
frequently  the  ill-placed  honour  itself  leads  to  that 
insensibility  which  is  so  severely  censured.  The  crass 
dulness,  the  perversity  of  judgment,  the  unfeeling 
severity,  often  displayed  by  prominent  and  distinguished 
persons,  are  no  matter  of  surprise,  and  will  not  be, 
until  human  society  learns  to  bring  its  honours  only 
to  the  wise  and  the  good.  ^'  Delicate  living  is  not 
seemly  for  such  persons."  ^  It  is  precisely  the  comfort, 
the  dignity,  the  exaltation,  which  prove  their  ruin. 
Now  it  is  true  that  we  cannot  always  trace  the  effects 
of  this  misplaced  honour,  but  we  are  reminded  that 
it  is  out  of  the  course  of  Nature's  eternal  laws,  incon- 
gruous as  snow  in  summer,  hurtful  as  rain  in  harvest. 
Consequently  the  due  penalty  must  inevitably  come. 
According  to  one  reading  of  ver.  2,  this  penalty  which 
overtakes  the  exalted  fool  is  thus  described :  ^  '^  As  the 
sparrow  in  her  wandering,  and  the  swallow  in  her 
flying,  so  a  gratuitous  curse  shall  come  upon  him." 
In  any  case  ver.  3  states  clearly  enough  what  will 
eventually  happen :  "  A  whip  for  the  horse,  a  bridle 
for  the  ass,  and  a  rod  for  the  back  of  fools."  It  is 
not,  of  course,  that  this  penalty  can  be  remedial,  but 
Nature  herself  prepares  a  "rod  for  the  back  of  him 
that  is  void  of  understanding;"^  ''As  judgments  are 
prepared  for  scorners,  so  are  stripes  for  the  back  of 
fools."  ^  Nor  must  we  only  understand  this  of  fools 
that  attain  to  unnatural  honour  :  there  are  many 
dullards  and  insensates  who  are  not  made  such  by  the 

'  Prov.  xix.  10. 

-  This  is  reading   v   for  NP,  a  constant  source  of  confusion  and 
interchange  in  Hebrew  MSS. 

*  Prov.  xix.  29. 


xxvi.  I,  ;-i2. 


THE   FOOL.  343 


stupidity  of  misdirected  admiration,  but  by  their  own 
moral  delinquencies;  and  as  surely  as  the  sparrow  after 
Hitting  about  all  day  returns  to  her  nest  in  the  dusk, 
or  as  the  swallow  in  the  long  summer  flight  arrives 
at  her  appointed  place,  the  punishment  of  folly  will 
find  out  the  delinquent.  It  may  be  long  delayed,  but 
an  awakening  comes  at  last;  the  man  who  hardened 
his  heart,  who  turned  away  from  the  pleadings  of  God 
and  mocked  at  His  judgments,  who  chose  the  vanishing 
things  of  time  and  scorned  the  large  fruition  of  eternity, 
discovers  his  incredible  stupidity,  and  the  lash  of  re- 
morse falls  all  the  more  heavily  because  it  is  left  in  the 
hand  of  conscience  alone.^  We  must  never  lose  sight 
of  the  fact  that  by  the  fool  is  not  meant  the  simple  or 
the  short-witted  ;  there  is  in  this  folly  of  the  proverbs 
a  moral  cause  and  a  moral  responsibility  which  involve 
a  moral  censure  ;  the  senseless  of  whom  we  are  speak- 
ing are  they  whose  "  heart  is  waxed  gross,  and  their 
ears  are  dull  of  hearing,  and  their  eyes  they  have 
closed ;  lest  haply  they  should  perceive  with  their  eyes, 
and  hear  with  their  ears,  and  understand  with  their 
heart."  - 

We  are  in  the  main  obliged  to  leave  the  insensate 
to  God  and  their  conscience,  because  it  is  well-nigh 
impossible  for  us  to  deal  with  them.  They  are 
intractable  and  even  savage  as  wild  animals.  ''  Let  a 
bear  robbed  of  her  whelps  meet  a  man,  rather  than  a 
fool  in  his  infatuation."  ^     They  are  irritated  with  any 


'  "Quos  divi  conscia  facti 
Mens  habet  attonitos  et  surdo  verbcrc  csedit, 
Occultum  quaticnte  animo  tortore  flagellum." 

— Juv.,  Sat.,  xiii.,  193. 
-  Matt.  xiii.  15.  ^  Prov.  xvii.  12. 


344  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

suggestion  of  spiritual  things,  indignant  with  any  hint 
of  their  own  case  and  its  responsibilities.  If,  on  the 
one  hand,  you  try  to  approach  them  on  their  own 
ground,  to  realize  their  motives  and  work  upon  the 
base  ideas  which  alone  influence  such  minds,  you  seem 
to  lose  all  power  over  them  by  coming  down  to  their 
level.  "  Answer  not  a  fool  according  to  his  infatuation, 
lest  thou  also  be  like  him."  ^  If,  on  the  other  hand,  you 
feel  bound  to  convict  him  of  his  folly,  and  to  humble 
him  to  a  sense  of  his  position,  you  are  obliged  to  use 
the  language  which  will  be  intelligible  to  him.  "Answer 
a  fool  according  to  his  infatuation,  lest  he  be  wise  in  his 
own  e3^es."  -  I  recollect  one  Sunday  afternoon  passing 
by  a  large  village  public-house,  and  it  chanced  that  a 
little  group  of  street  preachers  were  doing  their  best  to 
make  known  the  Gospel  to  the  idlers  who  were  sitting 
on  the  benches  outside.  Going  up  to  interest  the  men 
in  what  was  being  said,  I  was  confronted  by  the  land- 
lord, who  was  in  a  state  of  almost  frenzied  indignation. 
He  denounced  the  preachers  as  hypocrites  and  scoun- 
drels, who  lived  on  the  honest  earnings  of  those  whom 
he  saw  around  him.  Every  attempt  to  bring  him  to 
reason,  to  show  that  the  men  in  question  spent  their 
money  on  drink  and  not  on  the  preachers,  to  secure 
a  patient  hearing  for  the  gracious  message,  was  met 
only  with  violent  abuse  directed  against  myself.  The 
man  was  precisely  what  is  meant  in  these  verses  by  a 
fool,  one  in  whom  all  spiritual  vision  was  blinded  by 
greed  and  sensuality,  in  whom  the  plainest  dictates 
of  common  sense  and  human  courtesy  were  silenced  ; 
to  answer  him  in  his  own  vein  was  the  only  way  of 

'  Prov.  xxvi.  4.  -  Prov.  xxvi.  5. 


xxvi.  1,3-12.]  THE  FOOL.  345 


exposing  his  folly,  and  yet  to  answer  him  in  such  a 
way  was  to  come  down  to  his  own  level.  What  could 
be  done  except  to  leave  him  to  the  judgments  which 
are  prepared  for  scorners  and  to  the  stripes  which 
await  the  back  of  fools?  A  fool  uttereth  all  his  anger, 
and  facing  the  torrent  of  angry  words  it  is  impossible 
to  effectually  carry  home  to  him  any  wholesome 
truth/ 

We  have  seen  how  the  kind  of  man  that  we  are 
describing  is  in  an  utterly  false  position  when  any 
dignity  or  honour  is  attributed  to  him  ;  indeed,  to  give 
such  honour  is  much  the  same  as  binding  a  stone  in  a 
sling  to  be  immediately  slung  out  again,  probably  to 
some  one's  injury ;  -  but  he  is  almost  equally  useless  in 
a  subordinate  position.  If,  for  instance,  he  is  employed 
as  a  messenger,  he  is  too  dull  to  rightly  conceive  or 
correctly  report  the  message.  He  will  almost  certainly 
colour  it  wnth  his  own  fancies,  if  he  does  not  pervert 
it  to  his  own  ends.  To  receive  and  to  deliver  any 
message  accurately  requires  a  certain  truthfulness  in 
perception  and  in  speech  of  which  this  unfortunate 
creature  is  entirely  devoid.  Thus  any  one  who  em- 
ploys him  in  this  capacity  might  as  well  cut  off  his 
own  feet,  as  he  drinks  damage  to  himself." 

It  is  the  awful  punishment  which  comes  to  us  all, 
when  we  allow  our  heart  to  wax  gross,  that  wisdom 
itself  becomes  folly  in  our  lips,  and  truth  herself 
becomes  error.  Thus  if  we  know  a  proverb,  or  a  text, 
or  a  doctrine,  we  are  sure  to  give  it  a  lame  application, 
so  that,  instead  of  supporting  what  we  wish  to  enforce, 
it  hangs  down  helpless  like  a  cripple's  legs.*     In  this 

'  Prov.  xxix.  II.  '  Prov.  xxvi.  6. 

^  Prov.  xxvi.  8.  *  Prov.  xxvi.  7. 


346  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


way  the  insensate  corruptness  of  the  Mediaeval  Church 
tried  to  justify  the  abuse  of  giving  great  ecclesiastical 
preferments  to  young  children  by  quoting  the  text, 
''  Out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  suckhngs  thou  hast 
perfected  praise."  Sometimes  the  result  of  this  culpable 
stupidity  is  far  more  disastrous  ;  it  is  like  *'  a  thorn 
which  runs  up  into  a  drunkard's  hand,"  visiting  with 
terrible  condemnation  those  who  have  misused  and 
perverted  the  truth/  as  when  Torquemada  and  the 
administrators  of  the  Inquisition  based  their  diaboHcal 
conduct  on  the  gracious  words  of  the  Lord,  "  Compel 
them  to  come  in."  No,  the  fool's  heart  can  give  no 
wholesome  message  ;  it  will  turn  the  very  message  of 
the  Gospel  into  a  curse  and  a  Wight,  and  by  its  dull 
and  revolting  insensibility  it  will  libel  God  to  man, 
suggesting  that  the  Infinite  Father,  the  Eternal  God, 
is  altogether  such  an  one  as  these  who  profess  to 
speak  in  His  name. 

The  offence  of  the  fool  then  cannot  be  condoned  on 
the  ground  that  he  is  only  an  enemy  to  himself  It  is 
his  master  that  he  wrongs.  As  the  proverb  says,  ''A 
master  produces  all  things,  but  a  fool's  wages  and  hirer 
too  pass  away."  ^  The  fool  loses  what  he  earns  him- 
self: that  is  true,  but  he  undoes  his  employer  also. 
One  is  our  Master,  even  Christ ;  He  hires  us  for 
service  in  His  vineyard  ;    when  we  suffer  our  heart  to 

•'  Prov.  xxvi.  9. 

-  Prov.  xxvi.  10.  This  rendering  Delitzsch  obtained  by  altering  the 
vowel  points  in  the  first  "ID^  into  l^b,  and  the  sense  is  good,  if  a 
little  far-fetched.  On  the  other  hand,  the  received  reading  gives  a 
plain  though  a  somewhat  insipid  meaning:  "Much  produces  all," — 
whoever  has  a  little  and  uses  it  well  quickly  gets  more, — "but  he  that 
hires  a  fool  is  as  he  who  hires  passers  by,"  i.e.  the  employment  of  a  fool 
is  a  barren  undertaking  which  practically  leads  to  nothing. 


xxvi.  1,3-12.]  THE  FOOL.  347 


wax  dull,  when  we  grow  unspiritual,  unresponsive,  and 
insensate,  it  is  not  only  that  we  lose  our  reward,  but 
we  crucify  the  Son  of  God  afresh  and  put  Him  to  an 
open  shame. 

And  the  worst,  the  most  mournful,  feature  about  this 
fool's  condition  is  that  it  tends  to  a  perpetual  self- 
repetition  :  "  As  a  dog  that  returneth  to  his  vomit,  so  a 
fool  is  always  repeating  his  folly."  ^  Every  hardening 
of  the  heart  prepares  for  a  fresh  hardening,  every 
refusal  of  truth  will  lead  to  another  refusal.  Last 
Sunday  you  managed  to  evade  the  message  which  God 
sent  you  :  that  makes  it  much  easier  to  evade  the 
message  He  sends  you  to-day.  Next  Sunday  you  will 
be  almost  totally  indifferent.  Soon  you  will  get  out  of 
reach  altogether  of  His  word,  saying  it  does  you  no 
good.  Then  you  will  deny  that  it  is  His  word  or  His 
message.  You  pass  from  folly  to  folly,  from  infatuation 
to  infatuation,  until  at  last  you  can  with  a  grave  face 
accept  the  monstrous  self-contradiction  of  materialism, 
or  wallow  unresisting  in  the  slime  of  a  tormenting 
sensuality.     *'  As  the  dog  returns  to  his  vomit"  ! 

It  must  be  owned  that  the  condition  of  the  fool 
seems  sufficiently  sad,  and  the  gloom  is  deepened  by 
the  fact  that  our  book  knows  nothing  of  a  way  by 
which  the  fool  may  become  wise.  The  Proverbs 
uniformly  regard  the  foolish  and  the  wise  as  generically 
distinct  ;  between  the  two  classes  there  is  a  great  gulf 
fixed.  There  is  the  fool,  trusting  in  his  own  heart, 
incurring  stripes,  not  profiting  by  them,  always  the 
same  incorrigible  and  hopeless  creature ;  and  there  is 
the  wise  man,  always  delivered,  learning  from  experi- 

'  Prov.  xxvi.  II. 


148  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 


ence,  becoming  better  and  better.^  The  only  suggestion 
of  hope  is  a  comparative  one  :  "  Seest  thou  a  man  wise 
in  his  own  conceit  ?  there  is  more  hope  of  a  fool 
than  of  him." "-  But  there  is  no  tone  of  confidence  about 
this  assurance,  because,  as  we  have  repeatedly  seen, 
the  case  of  the  proud  or  conceited  man  is  regarded 
as  practically  desperate. 

No,  for  comfort  and  hope  in  this  matter  we  have  to 
turn  away  from  the  Ancient  Wisdom  to  the  revealed 
Wisdom,  Christ  Jesus.  It  is  He  and  He  alone  who 
practically  forbids  us  to  be  hopeless  about  any  one.  A 
noble  Roman  in  the  time  of  the  Punic  Wars  received 
an  honourable  recognition  from  the  Senate  because  he 
had  not  in  the  darkest  times  despaired  of  the  Republic. 
That  is  the  kind  of  debt  that  we  owe  to  the  Saviour. 
He  has  not  despaired  of  any  human  being  ;  He  will 
not  let  us  despair.  It  is  His  peculiar  power,  tried 
and  proved  again  and  again,  to  turn  the  fool  into  the 
wise  man.  Observing  the  threefold  distinction  which 
is  hidden  under  the  word  we  have  been  examining, 
Christ  is  able  to  arouse  the  weak,  fond,  infatuated 
soul  to  a  sense  of  its  need.  Could  there  be  a  better 
instance  than  that  of  the  woman  at  the  well, — a  foolish 
creature  living  in  conscious  sin,  yet  full  of  specious 
religious  talk  ?  Did  He  not  awake  in  her  the  thirst  for 
the  living  water,  and  satisfy  the  craving  which  He  had 
excited  ?  Christ  is  able  to  transform  the  dull  and 
heavy  soul,  that  has  suffered  itself  to  be  mastered 
by  greed  and  petrified  by  selfishness.  Was  not 
this  what   He  did   to  Zaccheus   the  publican  ?      And 


'  Prov.  xxviii.  26  ;  cf.  ix.  8  and  xxiii,  9. 
^  Prov.  xxvi.  12. 


THE  FOOL.  349 


even  with  that  worst  kind  of  fool,  whose  heart  is 
withered  up  within  him  by  reason  of  sin,  and  who  has 
learnt  to  say  in  his  heart  that  there  is  no  God,^  the 
Lord  is  not  helpless.  We  do  not  see  such  an  one  in 
the  pages  of  the  New  Testament,  because  the  folly  of 
Atheism  was  not  among  the  follies  of  those  times.  But 
in  our  own  day  it  is  an  experience  by  no  means  un- 
common ;  when  an  avowed  infidel  comes  under  the 
power  of  the  Gospel,  Christ  enters  into  him  with 
the  overwhelming  conviction  that  there  is  a  God ; 
Christ  shows  him  how  it  is  sin  which  has  thus  obscured 
the  elementary  conviction  of  the  human  spirit ;  and,  by 
the  direct  power  of  Christ,  his  heart  comes  to  him 
again  as  that  of  a  little  child,  while  in  the  rapturous 
joy  of  believing  he  lays  aside  the  folly  which  made  him 
doubt  along  with  the  sin  which  made  him  unwilling  to 
believe. 


^3,  Psah 


XXVII. 

LIVING  DAY  BY  DAY. 

"  Boast  not  thyself  of  to-morrow,  for  thou  knowest  not  what  a  day 
will  bring  forth." — Prov.  xxvii.  i. 

"The  grave  and  destruction  are  never  satisfied ;  and  the  eyes  cf 
men  are  never  satisfied  ;  "  and  LXX.  adds,  "  An  abomination  to  the 
Lord  is  he  who  sets  his  eye,  and  undisciplined  men  uncontrolled  in 
tongue." — Prov.  xxvii.  20. 

"  Whoso  keepeth  the  fig  tree  shall  eat  the  fruit  thereof,  so  he  that 
waits  on  his  Lord  eats  of  the  honour." — Prov.  xxvii.  18. 

HERE  is  a  wholesome  lesson  for  us.  We  are  to 
trust  no  future,  however  pleasant ;  we  are  to 
dwell  in  no  past,  however  honourable.  Life  consists  of 
a  present,  given  to  us  day  by  day ;  this  is  our  whole 
wealth  ;  squandered,  it  cannot  be  recovered  ;'  neglected, 
it  withers  as  a  leaf.  Titus,  the  Roman  Emperor,  would 
say  in  the  evening,  when  he  had  omitted  his  duties  or 
failed  in  his  purposes,  Perdidi  diem^  ''  I  have  lost  a 
day ; " — yes,  that  lost  day  is  lost  for  ever ;  other  days 
may  come,  but  not  that  one ;  the  duties  of  that  day  may 
be  performed  afterwards  or  by  other  hands,  but  still 
the  day  is  lost,  because  it  passed  away  empty.  The 
thief  which  cheats  us  of  our  days,  and  beggars  us  of 
our  wealth,  is  the  specious  thought  that  to-morrow 
belongs  to  us.  The  illusion  is  as  old  as  the  world,  but 
is  to-day  as  fresh  and  powerful  as  ever.  We  have  to 
shake  ourselves  free  of  a  spell,   and  awake  out  of  a 


xxvii.  1, 20,  i8.]  LIVING  DAY  BY  DAY.  351 

dream,  to  see  that  when  to-morrow  comes  it  is  already 
to-day. 

We  only  begin  to  live  in  any  true  and  satisfactory 
sense  when  we  have  learnt  to  take  each  day  by  itself, 
and  to  use  it  as  if  it  were  our  last,  and  indeed  as  if  it 
were  our  all ;  dismissing  the  thought  of  to-morrow  as  a 
mere  phantom  which  for  ever  evades  our  grasp.  Life  is 
a  mosaic,  a  large  work  shaping  on  the  wall  or  in  the  dome 
of  some  vast  cathedral  which  eye  hath  not  yet  seen  ; 
and  it  can  only  be  effectually  wrought  if,  with  minute 
and  concentrated  care,  the  little  piece  of  coloured  glass 
which  we  call  To-day  is  duly  fixed  into  its  bedding  and 
fitted  exactly  to  its  immediate  neighbours.  "  Why  do 
you  work  with  such  intensity  ?  "  the  great  artist  was 
once  asked ;  "  Because  I  work  for  eternity,"  was  the 
answer.  And  that  is  why  each  day  is  of  such  import- 
ance ;  that  is  why  each  day  demands  all  our  thought 
and  care:  eternity  is  made  up  of  days,  and  the  present 
day  is  all  of  eternity  that  we  can  ever  possess. 
^It  is  well  for  us  then  each  morning  to  take  the  day 
fresh  from  God's  hands,  and  at  once  to  throw  our  whole 
soul  into  it,  and  to  live  it  with  a  pure  intensity,  a  sense 
of  solemn  and  jpyjiLLxesponsibility.  \ 

"Oh,  Day,  if  I  squander  a  wavelet  of  thee, 
A  mite  of  my  twelve-hours'  treasure, 
The  least  of  thy  gazes  or  glances 
(Be  they  grants  thou  art  bound  to  or  gifts  above  measure), 

One  of  thy  choices  or  one  of  thy  chances 
(Be  they  tasks  God  imposed  thee  or  freaks  of  thy  pleasure), — 
My  Day,  if  I  squander  such  labour  or  leisure, 
Then  shame  fall  on  Asolo,  mischief  on  me.''  ' 

But  it  may  be  said,  Is  not  this  the  life  of  a  mere  butter- 
'  Browning,  Pippa  Passes. 


352  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

fly  ?  Is  it  not  the  mark  of  a  prudent  man  to  work  with 
his  eye  on  the  future, — ^'  Prepare  thy  work  without,  and 
make  it  ready  for  thee  in  the  field,  and  afterwards 
build  thine  house"  ?  ^  Is  it  not  just  what  we  have  to 
complain  of  in  the  foolish  man  that  he  ignores  to-morrow, 
—  *'  A  prudent  man  seeth  the  evil  and  hideth  himself,  but 
the  simple  pass  on  and  suffer  for  it  "  ?  ^ 

Here  is  an  apparent  contradiction  which  requires 
reflection.  And  the  difficulty  increases  when  we 
remember  that  most  worthy  works  are  the  labour  of 
years  :  an  architect  lays  his  plans  for  a  great  building 
which  he  can  hardly  hope  to  see  finished  in  his  own 
lifetime  ;  an  author  spends  days  and  months  and  years 
in  the  preparation  of  materials,  and  must  depend  on 
the  uncertain  future  for  a  time  to  shape  them  into  a 
book ;  a  statesman,  in  proportion  as  he  is  wise,  avoids 
what  is  called  a  hand-to-mouth  policy,  and  lays  his 
plans  with  his  eye  on  distant  possibilities,  well 
knowing  that  his  immediate  actions  are  liable  to  mis- 
understanding, and  may  prove  to  be  a  complete  failure 
unless  the  opportunity  is  accorded  him  of  reahzing  his 
far-reaching  schemes.  And,  in  the  same  way,  youth  is 
spent  in  education  which  derives  all  its  value  from  the 
expected  years  of  manhood,  and  all  the  days  of  a  good 
life  are  necessarily  a  preparation  for  that  which  is  to 
come  after :  we  must  study  in  order  that  we  may 
teach ;  we  must  train  ourselves  for  duties  which  will 
come  upon  us,  as  we  may  reasonably  suppose,  in  some 
distant  future.  Yet  our  to-morrow  is  unknown ;  we  are 
not  to  boast  ourselves  of  it ;  we  cannot  tell  what  a  day 
may  bring  forth,  and  must  therefore  live  only  in  to-day. 

'  Prov.  xxiv.  27,  -  Prov.  xxii,  3  ;  xxvii.  12* 


xxvii.  1, 20,  i8.]  LIVING  DAY  BY  DAY.  353 


Now  the  solution  of  this  difficulty  leads  us  to  one 
of  the  profoundest  of  all  spiritual  truths.  It  is  this  : 
No  life  can  be  worth  anything  at  all  apart  from  the 
Eternal  God,  and  faith  in  Him.  Life  cannot  be  really 
lived  if  it  is  merely  "  a  measure  of  sliding  sand  "  taken 
"  from  under  the  feet  of  the  years."  Our  swift  days 
cannot  be  effectually  and  wisely  used  unless  we  are 
linked  with  Him  who  embraces  in  Himself  the  past, 
the  present,  and  the  future.  Our  work,  whatever  it 
may  be,  cannot  be  rightly  done  unless  we  are,  and 
know  ourselves  to  be,  in  the  great  Taskmaster's  sight. 
The  proper  use  of  each  day  can  only  be  made  if  we 
are  confident  that  our  times  are  in  His  hands  ;  only 
in  this  quiet  assurance  can  we  have  composure  and 
detachment  of  spirit  enough  to  give  our  whole  strength 
to  the  duty  in  hand.  We  must  be  sure  that  the  Master- 
Artist  knows  the  whole  mosaic,  and  is  ordering  all  the 
parts,  before  we  can  surrender  ourselves  to  the  task  of 
putting  to-day's  piece  into  its  place  ;  we  must  have 
complete  faith  in  the  Architect  who  is  designing  the 
whole  structure,  before  we  can  have  our  mind  at 
leisure  from  itself  to  chip  our  block  of  stone  or  to 
carve  our  tiny  gurgoyle.  We  can  only  live  in  the 
present,  making  the  most  of  that  which  is  really  ours, 
on  condition  that  we  have  God  as  our  Future,  relieving 
us  of  all  anxious  care,  and  assuring  to  us  just  strength 
for  to-day. 

Thus  pur  text  has  an  implied  contrast,  which  we 
may  draw  out  in  this  way  :  "  Boast  not  thyself  of 
to-morrow,  for  thou  knowest  not  what  a  day  may 
bring  forth  ;  "  but  boast  thyself  in  God  all  the  day  long,^ 

'  Psalm  xliv.  8. 

23 


354  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

for  thou  knowest  that  He  will  bring  forth  righteous- 
ness, wisdom,  and  love  continually. 

Now  let  us  follow  out  some  of  the  consequences  of 
this  spiritual  attitude.  Examine  the  condition  of  these 
restless  human  hearts  all  around  us  without  God. 
They  are  all  toiling  for  to-morrow.  Here  is  one  making 
money,  as  it  is  called  ;  he  is  looking  forward  to  laying 
aside  so  many  thousands  this  year;  in  a  few  more 
years  he  hopes  to  realize  a  round  sum  which  will 
relieve  him  from  the  necessity  of  toil  and  of  further 
money-making.  His  eye  is  set  upon  that  goal.  At 
last  he  reaches  it.  Now  his  desire  should  be  satisfied, 
but  no,  **  Sheol  and  Abaddon  are  never  satisfied, 
and  the  eyes  of  man  are  never  satisfied."  ^  He  does 
not  stay  a  night  at  the  desired  goal ;  he  is  off  before 
sunset;  all  the  strain  and  the  fret  must  be  faced 
over  again.  Or  look  at  the  boundless  ambition  which 
possesses  godless  men ;  honours  achieved  only  whet 
their  appetite  for  more.  We  need  not  assume  that  the 
ambition  is  unworthy ;  all  we  have  to  notice  is  its 
insatiability ;  in  politics,  in  literature,  in  art,  in  social 
distinction,  it  is  like  Sheol  and  Abaddon, — a  maw  that 
ever  opens ;  a  gulf  that  can  swallow  anything  and 
everything,  yet  never  be  filled.  The  LXX.  addition" 
seems  to  regard  this  uncontrolled  desire  as  the  mark 
of  deficient  culture  ;  and,  spiritually  speaking,  no  doubt 
it  is.  Men  without  God  are  always  uncultured  ;  they 
have  not  found  the  centre  of  their  being,  they  have  not 
procured  the  key-stone  to  their  accumulated  know- 
ledge, and  it  is  in  consequence,  not  an  arch  through 
which  they  can  travel  to  any  goal,  but  a  confused  pile 

^  Prov.  xxvii.  20.  -  See  heading  of  chapter. 


1,20,  i8.]  LIVING  DAY  BY  DAY.  355 


which  blocks  the  way.  These  desperate  strivings  and 
loud-tongued,  undisciplined  desires  are  an  abomination 
to  the  Lord,  because  they  mar  His  mighty  plan  and 
introduce  disorder  where  He  intended  order,  discord 
where  He  intended  harmony,  deformity  where  He 
intended  beauty.  They  are  the  work  of  egoism  in- 
stead of  theism. 

It   is  needless    to   dwell  upon    the    heart-sores    and 
the  disappointments  which  fall  to  the  lot  of  the  people 
whom   we  are  thinking    of.       What   ghastly  mockery 
the  morrows  on  which  they  counted  prove  to  be  !    In 
some   lonely  and   rocky  island,   girdled  by  the  moan- 
ing of  the  dreary  seas,  and  cut  off  from  all  the  interests 
which  gave   to    life    its    excitement,    egotism    ends  its 
days.      Or  it  is  on  some  restless  couch,   surrounded 
by  all  the  outward  trappings  of  wealth  and  power,  that 
the  dying  spirit  cries,  '*  My  kingdom  for  an  inch  of  time!  " 
The  man  who  by  his  brilliant  genius  has  drawn  all  his 
generation  after  him  passes,  bearing  ''  through  Europe 
the  pageant  of  his  bleeding  heart,"  to  a  hopeless  grave. 
The  woman  who  has  achieved  the  end  of  her  ambition, 
ruling  the  courts  of  fashion,  the  acknowledged  queen 
of  salons,  ends  her  days  with  a  sense  of  frustration, 
cynical  in  her  contempt  for  the  world  which  was  foolish 
enough  to  follow  and  admire  her. 

But,  on   the  other   hand,    here    is   one   who    boasts 
himself  in  God. 

"Lord,  it  belongs  not  to  my  care,"     ^ 

is  the  language  of  his  spirit,  \ 

"  Whether  I  die  or  live  ; 
To  love  and  serve  Thee  is  my  share, 
And  that  Thy  grace  must  give." 


356  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  you  in  him  in  his  perfect 
peace.     His  mind  is  stayed  on  God.     The  future  has 
no  terrors  for  him,  nor  has  it  any  joys.     God   is  all 
in  all  to  him,  and  God  is  his  now.     His  treasure  is  in 
possession,  and  moth  and  rust  do  not  corrupt  it,  nor 
can  thieves  break  through  or  steal.     To  say  that  he 
is  contented  seems  too  mild  a  term  for  so  positive  and 
joyous  a  calm.     But  in   contrast   with  the   discontent 
which  prevails  everywhere  outside  of  God,  it  is  worth 
while  to  dilate  on  this  passive  virtue  of  contentment. 
That   endless  worry  about   little    things    has   ceased : 
he  is  not  annoyed  because  some  one  fails  to  recognise 
him  ;  he  is  not  affected  by  the  malicious  or  scandalous 
things  which  are   said   about  him ;  he  is  not  anxious 
for  human  recognition,  and  is  therefore  never  distressed 
because  others  are  more  courted  than  he  is  ;  he  knows 
nothing  of  that   malignant  passion  of  jealousy  which 
is  worse  than  the  cruelty  of  wrath  and'  the  flooding  of 
anger ;  ^    he  does   not  want   wealth  and   he  does  not 
dread  poverty.     He  says  : — 

"  Some  have  too  much,  yet  still  do  crave ; 

I  little  have,  and  seek  no  more : 
They  are  but  poor  though  much  they  have, 

And  I  am  rich  with  little  store  : 
They  poor,  I  rich ;  they  beg,  I  give ; 
They  lack,  I  leave  ;  they  pine,  I  live."- 

When  we  have  entered  into  this  Divine  content  and 
are  made  by  our  absolute  trust  in  God  free  from  care 
for  the  future,  it  is  wonderful  how  quick  we  become 
to  see  good  in  apparent  evils.  To  the  world  this  is 
so  incredible  that  it  suspects  insincerity,  but  there  is 

^  Prov.  xxvii.  4.  -  Sir  Edward  Dyer  {b.  1540). 


xxvii.  I,  20,  iS.J  LIVING  DAY  BY  DAY.  357 

nothing  more  sincere  and  more  real.  A  poor  child 
who  was  blind  found  the  greatest  blessing  in  the  afflic- 
tion, saying,  ''  You  see,  I  can  give  more  to  the  Missionary 
Society  than  the  other  children,  because  I  can  knit  in 
the  dark,  and  have  not  to  spend  money  on  candles." 
You  go  to  one  of  God's  children  expecting  to  find 
him  broken  down  and  rebellious  under  some  great 
and  undeserved  calamity,  but  you  find  that  he  has 
discovered  a  blessing  in  the  loss  before  you  get  there, 
and  is  actually  rejoicing,  or  at  any  rate  he  is  replying 
to  all  provocations,  "  The  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  took 
away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord."  He  is 
afQicted,  but  you  cannot  think  of  him  as  afflicted,  for 
''  all  the  days  of  the  afflicted  are  evil,  but  he  that  is 
of  a  cheerful  spirit  hath  a  continual  feast."  ^ 

Yes,  it  is  that  illusive  and  imaginary  morrow  that 
robs  us  of  our  peace ;  it  is  the  misgiving,  the  anxious 
care,  the  dark  foreboding.  But  when  we  put  God  our 
Father  in  place  of  the  morrow,  and  know  that  He 
comprehends  and  sees  all  that  we  have  need  of,  the 
peace  which  passes  all  understanding  settles  down 
upon  our  spirit,  and  steals  into  our  eyes,  and  breathes 
on  our  lips,  and  men  perceive  even  in  us  why  our 
Father  is  called  "  the  God  of  Peace." 

The  second  thing  which  strikes  us  in  those  who  have 
learnt  to  make  their  boast  in  God  rather  than  in  the 
morrow  is  the  service  which  they  render  to  their  fellows. 
This  is  not  only  because  they  are  able  to  turn  their 
undivided  attention  to  the  duty  which  lies  nearest,  and 
to  do  with  all  their  heart  what  their  hand  finds  to  do, 
but  the  very  spirit  of  serenity  in  which  they  live  is  a 

'  Prov.  XV.  15. 


358  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

constant  help  and  blessing  to  all  who  are  around  them. 
It  may  have  been  given  to  you  to  come  into  contact 
with  such  a  soul;  in  his  presence  your  restlessness 
dies  away,  it  seems  as  if  your  burning  brow  had  been 
touched  with  a  soothing  hand  ;  perhaps  *'  with  half- 
open  eyes  you  were  treading  the  borderland  dim  'twixt 
vice  and  virtue,"  and  that  quiet  spirit  seemed  like  a 
clear  shaft  of  the  dawn  revealing  where  you  trod ; 
perhaps  you  were  heart-broken  with  a  great  sorrow, 
and  the  restfulness  and  confidence  of  that  strong  soul 
gave  you  an  indefinable  consolation,  hope  broke  into 
your  heart,  and  even  joy.  In  receiving  that  help  from 
what  the  man  was  rather  than  from  what  he  gave, 
you  became  aware  that  this  was  the  highest  service 
that  any  human  being  can  render  to  another.  It  is  a 
great  thing  to  succour  the  physical  and  material  suf- 
ferings of  men  ;  it  is  a  greater  to  bring  them  clear 
truths  and  to  give  them  some  stimulus  and  guidance 
in  the  intellectual  life  ;  but  it  is  greatest  of  all  to  com- 
municate spiritual  sustenance  and  power,  for  that  means 
to  bring  souls  into  actual  and  conscious  contact  with 
God. 

One  of  the  noblest  examples  of  this  service  to 
humanity  is  furnished  in  the  life  and  the  writings  of 
St.  Paul.  His  personal  presence  became  the  new 
creation  of  that  ancient  heathen  civilisation,  and  count- 
less individual  souls  were,  through  the  inner  life  which 
he  presented,  brought  to  a  complete  change  and  made 
new  creatures  in  Christ.  His  writings  have  been,  ever 
since  he  died,  a  constant  source  of  life  and  strength  to 
many  generations  of  men.  He  has  been  misunderstood, 
*'  the  ignorant  and  unstedfast  have  wrested  "  what  he 
WTote,  but  none  the  less  he  has  been  to  the  Church  a 


xxvii.  1,20,  iS.|  IJl'ING   DAY  BY  DAY.  .^59 

perpetual  regenerator,  and,  as  a  great  writer^  of  our 
own  day  has  declared,  "  The  doctrine  of  Paul  will 
arise  out  of  the  tomb  where  for  centuries  it  has  lain 
covered  ;  it  will  edify  the  Church  of  the  future ;  it  will 
have  the  consent  of  happier  generations,  the  applause 
of  less  superstitious  ages."  Now  what  is  the  secret 
of  this  power?  It  is  given  in  his  own  words,  "For 
to  me  to  live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  is  gain."  '^  He  was 
able  to  fling  himself  with  that  passionate  temerity 
into  the  present  duty,  he  was  able  to  preach  the  word 
with  that  victorious  vigour  in  season  and  out  of  season, 
just  because  the  whole  burden  of  the  unknown  future 
was  rolled  away  from  him,  and  he,  more  than  any  man 
that  ever  lived,  understood  what  it  is  to  live  just  for 
to-day. 

Every  Christian  may  possess  the  same  secret ;  it  is 
the  open  secret  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  ;  as  our 
gracious  Lord  told  us,  we  may  be  as  the  lilies  o.f  the 
field  and  as  the  birds  of  the  air,  without  anxiety  or 
misgiving,  knowing  that  our  Heavenly  Father  cares  for 
us.  It  is  not  given  to  us  all  to  be  great  philanthropists, 
great  reformers,  great  preachers,  but  it  is  put  within 
the  reach  of  all  to  render  to  others  the  sweet  service  of 
abiding  always  in  trustful  and  loving  submission  to 
God's  will,  and  of  shedding  upon  all  the  light  of  our 
peace. 

And  this  leads  us  to  notice  on^  last  Jcaturc  of  this 
true  spiritual  life.  It  has  an  honour  of  its  own,  though 
it  is  not  an  earthly  honour ;  it  has  a  reward,  though 
it  is  not  a  material  reward.  "  Whoso  keepeth  the  fig 
tree  shall  eat  the  fruit  thereof,  and  he  that  waiteth  on 


Matthew  Arnold.  -  Phil.  i.  21. 


36o  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

his  master  eats  of  the  honour."  ^  That  is  a  saying 
which  can  only  apply  in  a  very  modified  degree  to 
earthly  service  and  human  masters.  How  many  loyal 
servants  of  kings  have  been  deserted  by  their  lords  at 
the  critical  moment,  and  left  to  eat  the  fruit  of  disgrace 
and  ignominy  !  But  the  saying  applies  in  its  fulness  to 
our  Master  Christ  and  His  service.  Think  of  the  Chris- 
tian hfe  under  this  simple  figure ;  it  is  like  the  careful 
cultivation  of  the  fruit  tree.  He  is  the  Vine.  Our  sole 
concern  is  to  keep  in  touch  with  Him,  to  sit  at  His 
feet,  to  watch  for  His  fruit,  to  see  that  no  other  concern 
disturbs  the  quiet  relation  of  perfect  loyalty  and  devo- 
tion to  Him.  Our  aim  is  not  to  do  our  own  business 
or  seek  our  own  ends,  but  to  be  sure  that  we  are 
always  awake  to  His  purposes  and  obedient  to  the 
demands  which  He  makes  upon  us.  It  is  not  ours  to 
reason  why,  but  it  is  ours  to  do  at  all  costs  whatsoever 
He  bids  us  do  to-day.  We  have  nothing  to  do  with 
to-morrow ;  we  have  no  responsibility  for  the  fruit,  for 
no  fruit-bearing  power  hes  in  us.  All  we  have  to  do 
is  to  keep  the  fig  tree.  Now  when  we  abide  in  this 
concentrated  and  whole-hearted  devotion  to  our  Master, 
— when  for  us  to  live  is  Christ, — then  honour  comes  to 
us  unsought,  but  not  unwelcome.  The  fruit  of  service 
is  to  the  taste  of  the  true  servant  the  highest  honour 
that  he  can  imagine.  We  need  no  apocalyptic  vision 
to  assure  us.  His  word  is  enough,  confirmed  as  it 
is  by  a  constant  and  growing  experience.  The  ser- 
vants of  our  Lord  already  stand  before  Him,  holding 
in  their  hands  the  talents  which  they  have  gained  for 
Him  ;  already  they  hear  His  gracious   "  Well  done," 

^  Prov.  xxvii.  1 8. 


xxvii.  I,  20,  iS.]  LIVING  DAY  BY  DAY.  361 


and  the  sound  of  it  is  more  musical  in  their  ears  than 
all  the  acclamations  of  their  fellow-creatures.  This  is 
their  honour  ;  what  could  they  have  more  ?  they  are 
counted  one  with  Christ;  they  shared  His  travail,  and 
now  they  share  His  satisfaction  and  His  joy. 

And  thus  those  who  make  their  boast  in  God,  and 
do  not  boast  of  the  morrow,  find  that  the  morrow  itself 
becomes  clear  to  them  in  the  light  of  His  countenance  ; 
they  do  in  a  sense  know  what  it  will  bring  forth  :  it 
will  bring  forth  what  they  desire,  for  it  will  bring  forth 
their  Father's  will ;  it  will  bring  forth  the  victory  and 
the  glory  of  Christ.  "  Henceforth  ye  shall  see  Him 
coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven."  Is  not  that  enough  ? 
When  our  hearts  have  learnt  to  hanker  only  after  God's 
will,  to  desire  only  Christ's  victory,  they  may  boast 
themselves  even  of  to-morrow ;  for  to-morrow  holds  in 
its  bosom  an  assurance  of  blessing  and  joy. 


XXVIII. 

AN  ASPECT  OF  ATONEMENT. 

"  He  that  hideth  /nD3p\  his  transgressions  shall  not  prosper  ;  but 
whoso  confesscth  and  forsaketh  them  shall  obtain  mercy. "^ — Prov, 
xxviii.  13. 

"  Happy  is  the  man  that  feareth  alway ;  but  he  that  hardeneth  his 
heart  shall  fall  into  mischief." — Prov.  xxviii.  14. 

"The  fear  of  the  Lord  tendeth  to  life/and  he  that  hath  it  shall 
abide  satisfied.    He  shall  not  be  visited  with  evil." — Prov.  xix.  23. 

"  By  mercy  and  truth  iniquity  is  atoned  for,  and  by  the  fear  of  the 
Lord  men  depart  from  evil." — Prov,  xvi.  6.  7^ 

THE  Hebrew  word  ("^5?)  which  is  used  for  the 
idea  of  atonement  is  one  which  originally  signifies 
io  cover.  Sin  is  a  hideous  sore,  a  shocking  deformity, 
which  must  be  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  men,  and  much 
more  from  the  holy  eyes  of  God.  Thus  the  Old  Testa- 
ment speaks  about  a  Robe  of  Righteousness  which  is 
to  be  thrown  over  the  ulcerated  and  leprous  body  of 
sin.  Apart  from  this  covering,  the  disease  is  seen 
working  out  its  sure  and  terrible  results.  '*  A  man 
that  is  laden  with  the  blood  of  any  person  shall  flee 
unto  the  pit :  let  no  man  stay  him,"  ^  and  though  blood- 
guiltiness  appears  to  us  the  worst  of  sins,  all  sin  is 
alike  in  its  issue  ;  every  sinner  may  be  seen  by  seeing 
eyes  ''  fleeing  unto  the  pit,"  and  no  man  can  stay  him 

^  Prov.  xxviii.  17. 


AN  ASPECT  OF  ATONEMENT.  363 


or  deliver  him.  Or,  to  vary  the  image,  the  sinful  man 
is  exposed  to  the  violence  of  justice,  which  beats  like 
a  storm  upon  all  unprotected  heads ;  he  needs  to  be 
covered  ;  he  needs  some  shelter,  some  hiding-place,  or 
he  must  be  swept  away. 

But  the  objection  which  immediately  occurs  to  us  is 
this  :  what  is  the  use  of  covering  sin  if  the  sin  itself 
remains  ?  The  disease  is  not  cured  because  a  decent 
garment  is  drawn  over  the  suffering  part ;  indeed,  it  is 
not  hard  to  conceive  a  case  in  which  the  covering  might 
aggravate  the  mischief.  If  the  idea  of  covering  is  to  be 
of  any  service,  it  must  be  cleared  from  all  misconception  ; 
there  is  a  kind  of  hiding  which  may  be  ruinous,  a 
garment  which  may  drive  the  disease  inward  and  hasten 
its  deadly  operation,  a  covert  from  the  storm  which 
may  crush  and  stifle  the  person  whom  it  professes  to 
protect.  ''  He  that  covereth  his  transgressions,"  in  that 
way,  "  shall  not  prosper."  Every  attempt  to  conceal 
from  God  or  from  man  or  from  oneself  that  one  is 
diseased  with  sin  is  ineffectual  :  every  lame  excuse 
which  seeks  to  palliate  the  guilt  ;  every  hypocritical 
pretence  that  the  thing  done  has  not  been  done,  or 
that  it  is  not  what  men  usually  suppose  it  to  be ;  every 
ingenious  argumentation  which  seeks  to  represent  sin 
as  something  other  than  sin,  as  a  mere  defect  or  taint 
in  the  blood,  as  a  hereditary  and  unavoidable  weakness, 
as  an  aberration  of  the  mind  for  which  one  is  not 
responsible,  or  as  a  merely  conventional  and  artificial 
offence, — all  such  attempts  at  hiding  must  be  failures, 
"covering"  of  that  kind  can  be  no  atonement.  Quite 
the  reverse  ;  this  trifling  with  conscience,  this  deluded 
self-righteousness,  is  the  worst  possible  aggravation  of 
the  sin.     Hidden  in  that  way,  though  it  be,  as  it  were, 


364  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  sin  becomes  a  poisonous  gas, 
more  noxious  for  confinement,  and  Hable  to  break  out 
in  awful  and  devastating  explosions. 

The  covering  of  sin  ^  which  is  spoken  of  in  xvi.  6  is 
of  a  very  different  and  of  a  quite  particular  kind.  Com- 
bining this  verse  with  the  others  at  the  head  of  the 
chapter,  we  may  observe  that  every  effectual  *'  covering  " 
of  sin  in  God's  sight  involves  three  elements, — con- 
fession, forsaking,  and  a  changed  practice. 

First,  there  is  confession.  This  appears  on  the  face 
of  it  to  be  a  paradox  :  the  only  way  of  covering  sin  is 
to  uncover  it.  But  it  is  strictly  true.  We  must  make 
a  clean  breast  of  it ;  we  must  acknowledge  its  full 
extent  and  enormity  ;  we  must  spare  the  patient  ear  of 
God  no  detail  of  our  guilt.  The  foul,  explosive  gases 
must  be  let  out  into  the  open,  since  every  attempt  to 
confine  them  increases  their  destructive  power.  The 
running  sore  must  be  exposed  to  the  Physician's  eye, 
since  every  rag  put  over  it  to  hide  it  becomes  steeped 
in  its  defiling  tides.  It  is  true,  confession  is  a  painful 
and  a  weary  task  :  it  is  like  removing  a  heap  of  dust 
and  refuse  by  spadefuls, — each  bit  as  it  is  disturbed  fills 
the  atmosphere  with  choking  particles  and  noisome 
smells ;  worse  and  worse  is  revealed  the  farther  we  go. 
We  came  to  confess  a  single  fault,  and  we  found  that 

*  It  may  be  necessary  to  point  out  to  the  reader  that  in  approach- 
ing the  subject  of  atonement  from  the  standpoint  of  the  book  of 
Proverbs,  and  merely  in  the  expository  treatment  of  the  passages 
before  us,  the  so-called  objective  ground  of  atonement  in  the  sacrifice 
of  Christ  does  not  come  into  view,  but  its  necessity  becomes  manifest 
as  each  step  in  the  exposition  reveals  how  impossible  it  would  be  for 
us,  apart  from  the  work  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  realize  those 
conditions  which  are  here  laid  down  as  indispensable  to  pardon  and 
acceptance  with  God. 


xxviii.;xix.;xvi.]    AN  ASPECT  OF  ATONEMENT.  365 

it  was  but  a  broken  sherd  lying  on  the  foul  and  pesti- 
lential heap.  Confession  leads  to  confession,  discovery 
to  discovery.  It  is  terribly  humiliating.  "Am  I  then 
so  bad  as  this  ? "  is  the  horrified  cry  as  each  candid 
admission  shows  only  more  and  worse  that  must  be 
admitted.  True  confession  can  never  be  made  into  a 
priest's  ear, —  to  men  we  can  only  confess  the  wrongs 
which  we  have  done  to  men  ;  but  true  confession  is  the 
awful  tale  of  what  we  have  done  to  God,  against  whom 
only  we  have  sinned  and  done  evil  in  His  sight.  It 
is  sometimes  urged  that  confession  to  a  priest  gives  the 
penitent  relief:  possibly,  but  it  is  a  false  relief;  since 
the  eye  of  the  priest  is  not  omniscient,  the  sinner  con- 
fesses only  what  he  chooses,  brings  the  broken  sherd, 
and  receives  absolution  for  that  in  lieu  of  removing  the 
whole  heap  of  abominations  that  underlie.  When  we 
have  gone  as  far  as  we  can  in  laying  ourselves  bare  to 
man,  there  remain  vast  untraversed  tracts  of  our  life 
and  our  mind  which  are  reserved  ;  "  Private  road  "  is 
written  on  all  the  approaches,  and  trespassers  are  in- 
variably prosecuted.  It  is  only  to  God  that  a  real 
confession  can  be  made,  because  we  know  that  to  Him 
all  is  necessarily  evident;  with  Him  no  subterfuges 
avail;  He  traverses  those  untraversed  tracts;  there  are 
no  private  roads  from  which  He  is  excluded  ;  He  knoweth 
our  thoughts  afar  off. 

The  first  step  in  the  *'  covering  "  of  sin  is  to  realize 
this.  If  our  sins  are  to  be  really  covered  they  must 
first  be  laid  bare  ;  we  must  frankly  own  that  all  things 
are  open  to  Him  with  whom  we  have  to  do;  we  must 
get  away  from  the  priests  and  into  the  hands  of  the 
High  Priest  ;  we  must  abjure  the  confessional  and 
bring  God  Himself  into  the  secret  places  of  our  hearts 


THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


to  search  us  and  tr}-  us  and  see  if  there  be  any  evil 
wa}^  in  us.  The  reserve,  and  the  veilings,  which  every 
individual  cannot  but  maintain  between  himself  and 
all  other  individuals,  must  be  torn  away,  in  full  and 
absolute  confession  to  God  Himself. 

Secondly.  There  is  a  confession,  especiall}^  that 
fostered  by  the  habit  of  confessing  to  priests,  w^hich  is 
unaccompanied  b}^  any  forsaking  of  the  evil,  or  any 
departing  from  iniquity  in  general.  Many  times  have 
men  gone  to  their  priests  to  receive  absolution  before- 
hand for  the  sin  which  they  intended  to  commit ;  or  they 
have  postponed  their  confession  to  their  deathbeds, 
when  there  will  be,  as  they  suppose,  no  further  sins  to 
turn  from.  Confession  of  that  kind  is  devoid  of  all 
significance  ;  it  covers  no  sins,  it  really  only  aggravates 
them.  No  confession  is  of  the  least  avail — and  indeed 
no  real  confession  can  be  made  to  God  at  all — unless 
the  heart  turns  awa}'  from  the  evil  which  is  confessed, 
and  actually  departs  at  once,  so  far  as  it  knows  and  is 
able,  from  all  iniquity. 

The  glib  language  of  confession  has  been  and  is  a 
deadly  snare  to  multitudes.  How  easy  it  is  to  sa}^,  or 
even  to  musically  chant,  '^  We  have  done  that  we  ought 
not  to  have  done  ;  we  have  left  undone  that  which  we 
ought  to  have  done."  There  is  no  pain  in  such  a  con- 
fession if  we  once  distinctly  admit  that  it  is  a  normal 
and  natural  state  of  mind  for  us  to  be  in,  and  that  as 
we  say  it  to-da}^  so  w^e  shall  say  it  to-morrow,  and 
again  the  next  day  to  the  end.  But  real  confession  is 
so  painful,  and  even  heart-rending,  because  it  is  only  of 
value  when  w^e  begin  from  that  moment  onwards  "  to 
do  what  we  ought  to  do,  and  to  leave  undone  what  we 
ought  not  to  do."     It  is  well  for  us,  perhaps,  to  confess 


:in.;xix.;xvi.]    AN  ASPECT  OF  ATONEMENT.  367 


not  so  much  sin  in  the  abstract  as  our  own  particular 
transgressions.  Sin  is  too  shadowy  a  monster  for  us 
to  definitely  avoid  and  forsake ;  like  death,  its  kinsman, 
— Death  of  whom  Milton  says  : — 

"  What  seemed  his  head 
Tlie  /ikeitess  of  a  kingly  crown  had  on." — 

Sin  is  formless,  vague,  impalpable.  But  our  own 
individual  transgressions  can  be  fixed  and  defined ; 
bringing  ourselves  to  the  test  of  the  Law,  we  can 
say  particularly,  "  This  practice  of  mine  is  condemned, 
this  habit  of  mine  is  sinful,  this  point  of  my  character 
is  evil,  this  reticence,  this  indolence,  this  reluctance, 
in  confessing  Christ  and  in  serving  His  cause,  is  all 
wrong ; "  and  then  we  can  definitely  turn  our  back 
on  the  practice  or  the  habit,  we  can  distinctly  get  rid 
of  the  blot  in  our  character,  we  can  fly  this  guilty 
silence,  rouse  ourselves  from  our  selfish  indolence. 
"  We  live  to  grow  less  like  what  we  have  been ; " 
and  it  is  this  act  of  the  will,  this  resolute  purpose, 
this  loathing  what  once  you  loved,  and  turning  to- 
wards that  which  once  you  ignored, — it  is,  in  a  word, 
the  twin  process  of  repentance  and  conversion,  that 
constitutes  the  second  act  in  this  "  covering  "  of  sin. 
Not,  of  course,  that  in  a  moment  the  tyranny  of  old 
habits  can  be  broken,  or  the  virtue  of  new  activities 
acquired;  but  ''the  forsaking"  and  "the  departing 
from"  are  instantaneous  exertions  of  the  will.  Zaccheus, 
directly  the  Lord  speaks  to  him,  stands  forth,  and  breaks 
with  his  sins,  renounces  his  extortions,  resolving  to 
make  amends  for  the  past,  and  enters  on  a  new  line 
of  conduct,  promising  to  give  the  half  of  his  goods  to 
the    poor.      That    is    the  essential  seal  of  every   true 


368  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


confession:  "Whoso  confesseth  and  forsaketh "  his 
transgressions. 

Thirdly.  This  has  led  us  to  see  that  the  confession 
of  sins  and  the  conversion  from  them  must  issue  in  a 
positive  practice  of  mercy  and  truth,  in  order  to  make 
the  process  of  which  we  are  speaking  complete  :  "  By 
mercy  and  truth  iniquity  is  atoned  for." 

It  is  this  part  of  the  '^  covering  "  which  is  so  easily, 
so  frequently,  and  so  fatally  overlooked.  It  is  sup- 
posed that  sins  can  be  hidden  without  being  removed, 
and  that  the  covering  of  what  is  called  imputed 
righteousness  will  serve  instead  of  the  covering  of 
actual  righteousness.  To  argue  against  this  view 
theoretically  is  at  the  present  day  happily  quite  super- 
fluous ;  but  it  is  still  necessary  to  contend  against  its 
subtle  practical  effects.  There  is  no  verity  more 
wholesome  and  more  needed  than  the  one  contained  in 
this  proverb.  Sin  may  be  summed  up  in  two  clauses  : 
it  is  the  Want  of  Mercy  and  it  is  the  Want  of  Truth. 
All  our  illconduct  to  our  fellow-men  comes  from  the 
cruelty  and  hardness  of  our  selfish  nature.  Lust  and 
greed  and  ambition  are  the  outcome  of  pitilessness ; 
we  injure  the  weak  and  ruin  the  helpless,  and  trample 
on  our  competitors,  and  stamp  out  the  poor ;  our  eye 
does  not  pity.  Again,  all  our  offence  against  God  is 
insincerity  or  wilful  lying.  We  are  false  to  ourselves, 
we  are  false  to  one  another,  and  so  we  become  false  to 
the  unseen  verities,  and  false  to  God.  When  a  human 
spirit  denies  the  spiritual  world  and  the  spiritual  Cause 
which  can  alone  account  for  it,  is  it  not  what  Plato 
used  to  call  "  a  lie  in  the  soul "  ?  It  is  the  deep  inward 
and  vital  contradiction  of  consciousness  ;  it  is  equivalent 
to  saying,  "  I  am  not  I,"  or,  "  That  which  is,  is  not," 


xxviii.;xix.;xvi.]    AN  ASPECT  OF  ATONEMENT.  369 

Now  when  we  have  lived  in  sin,  without  mercy  or 
without  truth,  or  without  both  ;  when  our  Hfe  up  to  a 
certain  point  has  been  a  flagrant  selfishness  of  absolute 
indifference  to  our  fellows,  or  a  flagrant  lie  denying 
Him  in  whom  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being ; 
or  when,  as  is  so  often  the  fact,  the  selfishness  and 
the  falseness  have  gone  together,  an  inextricable  and 
mutually  dependent  pair  of  evils,  there  can  be  no  real 
covering  of  the  sin,  unless  selfishness  gives  place  to 
mercy  and  falsehood  to  truth.  No  verbal  confession 
can  possibly  avail,  no  turning  from  the  past  iniquities, 
however  genuine  for  the  time,  can  have  any  permanent 
significance,  unless  the  change  is  a  reahty,  an  obvious, 
living,  and  working  fact.  If  a  man  supposes  that  he 
has  become  religious,  but  remains  cruel  and  selfish, 
pitiless,  unmerciful  to  his  fellow-men,  depend  upon  it 
that  man's  religion  is  vain  ;  the  atonement  in  which  he 
trusts  is  a  fiction,  and  avails  no  more  than  the  heca- 
tombs which  Carthage  offered  to  Melcarth  availed  to 
gain  a  victory  over  Rome.  If  a  man  counts  himself 
saved,  but  remains  radically  untrue,  false  in  his  speech, 
insincere  in  his  professions,  careless  in  his  thought 
about  God,  unjust  in  his  opinions  about  men  and  the 
world,  he  is  certainly  under  a  lamentable  delusion. 
Though  he  has,  as  he  thinks,  believed,  he  has  not 
believed  to  the  saving  of  his  soul ;  though  he  has 
undergone  a  change,  he  has  changed  from  one  lie  to 
another,  and  is  in  no  way  better  off.  It  is  by  mercy 
and  truth  that  iniquity  can  be  covered. 

Now  it  will  be  generally  admitted  that  we  do  not 
take  the  course  which  has  just  been  described  unless 
we  have  the  fear  of  God  before  our  eyes.  Nothing  but 
the  thought  of   His   holiness   and    the    awe    which    it 

24 


370  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

inspires,  and  in  some  cases  even,  nothing  but  the 
absolute  terror  of  Him  who  can  by  no  means  clear  the 
guilty,  moves  the  heart  of  man  to  confession,  turns 
him  away  from  his  sins,  or  inclines  him  to  mercy  and 
truth.  When  the  fear  of  God  is  removed  from  men's 
eyes  they  not  only  continue  in  sin,  but  they  quickly 
come  to  believe  that  they  have  no  sins  to  confess ;  for 
indeed  when  God  is  put  out  of  the  question  that  is  in  a 
certain  sense  true.  It  is  a  mere  fact  of  observation, 
confirmed  now  by  many  changing  experiences  of 
humanity,  that  it  is  "  by  the  fear  of  the  Lord  men 
depart  from  iniquity ; "  and  it  is  very  significant  to 
notice  how  many  of  those  who  have  entirely  put  away 
the  fear  of  the  Lord  from  their  own  eyes  have  strongly 
advocated  keeping  it  before  the  eyes  of  others  as 
the  most  convenient  and  economical  police  resource.* 
Many  fervent  free-thinkers  are  thankful  that  their 
opinions  are  only  held  by  a  minority,  and  have  no 
wish  to  see  the  whole  of  society  committed  to  the  cult 
which  they  would  have  us  believe  is  all  that  their  own 
religious  nature  requires. 

But  supposing  that  any  one  of  us  is  led  into  the 
position  of  confession  and  conversion  and  amendment 
which  is  described  in  these  Proverbs  :  what  follows  ? 
That  person,  says  the  text,  ''shall  obtain  mercy."  The 
gracious  Father  immediately,  unconditionally,  and  abso- 
lutely pardons.  This  is  the  burden  of  the  Old  Testament, 
and  it  is  certainly  not  repealed  by  the  New.  ''  If  we 
confess  our  sins,  He  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive  us 

1  Voltaire  rose  once  from  the  table  at  Ferney,  where  some 
atheists  were  discussing  their  views.  He  said  he  could  not  let  his 
servants  hear  this  talk,  for  they  would  rob  and  murder  him  if  that 
was  true. 


xxviii.;xix.;xvi.]     AN  ASPECT  OF  ATONEMENT.  371 


our  sins."     "  Repent,  and  be  converted,"  said  St.  Peter 

to  the  crowd  at  Pentecost,  "  that  your  sins  may  be 
blotted  out."  The  New  Testament  is  indeed  on  this 
point  the  louder  and  the  clearer  echo  of  the  Old.  The 
New  Testament  explains  that  saying  which  sounds  so 
strange  in  the  mouth  of  a  perfectly  just  and  Holy  God, 
"  I,  even  I,  am  He  that  blotteth  out  thy  transgressions 
for  Mine  own  sake."  ^  Human  theologies  have  ima- 
gined obstacles  in  the  way,  but  God  never  admitted 
them  for  a  moment.  Clear  as  the  truth  that  the  soul 
which  sins  should  die,  was  the  promise  that  the  soul 
which  turned  from  its  sin,  and  did  that  which  is  righteous 
in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord,  should  live.  No  earthly  father, 
frankly  and  unconditionally  forgiving  his  penitent, 
sobbing  child,  could  be  so  prompt,  so  eager  as  God. 
While  the  prodigal  is  yet  a  great  way  off  the  Father 
runs  to  meet  him,  and  hides  all  his  broken  confessions 
in  the  rush  of  His  embrace. 

But  we  hesitate  to  admit  and  rejoice  in  this  grand 
truth  because  of  an  uneasy  fear  that  it  is  ignoring  what 
is  called  the  Atonement  of  Christ.  It  is  a  very  proper 
hesitation,  so  long  as  we  settle  it  within  ourselves  that 
these  sweet  and  beautiful  utterances  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment cannot  possibly  be  limited  or  reversed  by  that 
Gospel  which  came  to  give  effect  and  fulfilment  to  them. 
Is  not  the  solution  of  any  difficulty  that  has  occurred 
to  us  to  be  found  here  ?  The  sacrifice  and  the  work 
of  Christ  create  in  the  human  soul  those  conditions 
which  we  have  been  considering.  He  came  to  give 
repentance  unto  Israel.  It  is  His  patient  love  in 
bearing   all  our   infirmities    and  sins.    His  mysterious 

'  Isa.  xliii.  25. 


372  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

self-offering  on  the  Cross,  that  can  effectually  bring 
us  to  confession,  conversion,  and  amendment.  Our 
hearts  may  have  been  hard  as  the  nether  millstone, 
but  at  the  Cross  they  are  broken  and  melted.  No 
stern  denunciation  of  sin  has  ever  moved  our  stubborn- 
ness ;  but  as  we  realize  what  sin  did  to  Him,  when 
He  became  sin  for  us,  the  fear  of  the  Lord  falls  upon 
us,  we  tremble,  and  cry,  What  shall  we  do  to  be 
saved  ?  Then  again,  it  is  His  perfect  holiness,  the 
beauty  of  those  ''  stainless  years  He  passed  beneath 
the  Syrian  blue,"  which  wakes  in  us  the  hankering 
desire  for  purity  and  goodness,  and  makes  us  turn 
with  a  genuine  disgust  from  the  sins  which  must  seem 
so  loathsome  in  His  sight.  His  "  neither  do  I  condemn 
thee  ;  go,  and  sin  no  more,"  gives  us  a  more  burning 
hatred  of  sin  than  all  the  self-righteous  censures  and 
condemnations  of  the  Pharisees.  It  is  in  the  pages  of 
the  Gospels  that  we  have  first  understood  what  concrete 
goodness  is;  it  has  risen  upon  our  night  hke  a  clear, 
liquid  star,  and  the  passion  of  it  has  entered  into  our 
souls.  And  then,  finally,  it  is  the  Risen  Lord,  unto 
whom  all  power  is  given  in  heaven  and  in  earth,  that 
can  really  transform  our  nature,  flood  our  heart  with 
love,  and  fill  our  mind  with  truth,  so  that,  in  the 
language  of  the  proverb,  mercy  and  truth  may  atone 
for  iniquity. 

Is  it  not  because  Christ  by  His  coming,  by  His 
living,  by  His  dying,  by  His  risen  power,  produces  in 
the  believer  repentance  and  confession  of  sins,  conver- 
sion and  departing  from  sin,  regeneration  and  actual 
holiness,  that  we  say  He  has  covered  our  sins  ?  What 
meaning  can  be  attached  to  Atonement  apart  from  its 
effects  ?     And  in  what  other  way,  we  may  ask,  could 


xxviii.;xix.;xvi.]     AN  ASPECT  OF  ATONEMENT.  373 


He  really  give  us  such  a  covering  or  atonement,  than 
by  creating  in  us  a  clean  heart  and  renewing  a  right 
spirit  within  us  ?  Sometimes,  by  a  not  unnatural 
confusion  of  language,  we  speak  of  the  sacrificial  death 
of  our  Lord  as  if  it,  apart  from  the  effects  produced  in 
the  believing  heart,  were  in  itself  the  Atonement.  But 
that  is  not  the  language  of  the  New  Testament,  which 
employs  the  idea  of  reconciliation  ^  where  the  Old 
Testament  would  employ  the  idea  of  atoning ;  and 
clearly  there  can  be  no  reconciliation  accomplished 
between  man  and  God  until,  not  only  God  is  reconciled 
to  man,  but  man  also  is  reconciled  to  God.  And  it  is 
when  we  come  to  observe  more  accurately  the  language 
of  the  New  Testament  that  this  statement  of  the 
Proverbs  is  seen  to  be  no  contradiction,  but  an  antici- 
pation, of  it.  Only  the  regenerate  soul,  that  in  which 
the  graces  of  the  Christ-Hfe,  mercy  and  truth,  have 
been  implanted  by  Christ,  is  really  reconciled  with  God, 
i.e.,  effectually  atoned.  And  though  the  framer  of  the 
proverb  had  but  a  dim  conception  of  the  way  in  which 
the  Son  of  God  would  come  to  regenerate  human  hearts 
and  make  them  in  harmony  with  the  Father,  yet  he 
saw  clearly  what  Christians  have  too  often  overlooked, 
and  expressed  tersely  what  theology  has  too  often 
obscured,  that  every  effectual  Atonement  must  include 
in  itself  the  actual,  moral  regeneration  of  the  sinner. 


'  See  Rom.  v.  ii.  This  is  the  only  place  in  the  New  Testament 
where  even  in  the  Authorised  Version  the  word  "atonement"  occurs. 
But  the  contention  of  the  text  is  not  one  of  words,  but  of  facts. 
Whatever  terms  are  used,  the  Gospels  and  the  Epistles  all  agree  in 
identifying  the  salvation  of  God  with  an  actual  and  practical  righteous- 
ness wrought  out  by  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  lives  of  those  who  believe 
in  Christ  as  their  Saviour. 


374  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

And  further,  whoever  wrote  the  verse  which  stands 
at  the  head  of  our  chapter  understood  what  many 
preachers  of  the  Gospel  have  left  in  perplexing  obscurity, 
that  God  would  necessarily,  from  His  very  nature, 
provide  the  offering  and  the  sacrifice  on  the  ground  of 
which  every  repentant  soul  that  turns  to  Him  could  be 
immediately  and  freely  forgiven. 


XXIX. 

THE  NEED   OF  REVELATION. 

"Where  no  vision   is,   a  people  casts   off  restraint,   but  he    that 
kcepeth  the  law  is  happy." — Prov.  xxix.  i8. 

THE  form  of  the  proverb  shows  that  we  are  not 
to  treat  the  vision  and  the  law  as  opposite,  but 
rather  as  complementary  terms.  Visions  are,  it  is  true, 
especially  the  mark  of  the  prophets,  and  the  law  is 
often  confined  in  a  special  sense  to  the  Pentateuch  ; 
but  there  is  a  much  wider  usage  of  the  words,  accord- 
ing to  which  the  two  together  express,  with  tolerable 
completeness,  what  we  mean  by  Revelation.  The  vision 
means  a  perception  of  God  and  His  ways,  and  is  quite 
as  applicable  to  Moses  as  to  Isaiah ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  law  covers  all  the  distinct  and  articulate 
instruction  which  God  gives  to  His  people  in  any  of 
His  ways  of  self-communication.  *'  Come  ye,"  says 
Isaiah,^  "and  let  us  go  up  to  the  mountain  of  the 
Lord,  to  the  house  of  the  God  of  Jacob  ;  and  He  will 
teach  us  of  His  ways,  and  we  will  walk  in  His  paths  : 
for  out  of  Zion  shall  go  forth  the  law^  and  the  word 
of  the  Lord  from  Jerusalem  ; "  where  the  whole  context 
shows  that,  not  the  Mosaic  Law,  but  rather  a  new  and 
particular  declaration  of  the  Lord's  will,  is  referred  to. 

'  Isa.  ii.  3. 


376  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

But  while  the  vision  and  the  law  are  not  to  be 
treated  as  opposites,  it  is  possible  to  distinguish  between 
them.  The  vision  is  the  actual  contact  between  God 
and  the  human  spirit,  which  is  the  necessary  condition 
of  any  direct  revelation ;  the  law  is  the  recorded  result 
of  such  a  revelation,  either  passed  from  mouth  to 
mouth  by  tradition,  or  written  permanently  in  a  book. 

We  may  then  a  little  amplify  the  proverb  for  the 
sake  of  exposition  :  "  Where  there  is  no  living  reve- 
lation, no  perceived  contact  between  man  and  God, 
there  the  bonds  which  hold  society  together  are  relaxed 
or  broken  ;  but  he  that  holds  by  the  revelation  that  has 
been  given,  obeying  the  law,  so  far  as  it  has  been 
presented  to  him,  happy  is  he." 

Man  has  need  of  a  revelation ;  that  is  the  assertion. 
Society,  as  an  ordered  and  happy  body  of  men  in 
which  each  person  is  rightly  subordinated  to  the  whole, 
and  in  which  law,  as  distinct  from  individual  caprice, 
prevails,  requires  a  revealed  law.  The  light  of  nature 
is  good,  but  it  is  not  sufficient.  The  common  sense 
of  mankind  is  powerful,  but  not  powerful  enough.  In 
the  absence  of  a  real  and  valid  declaration  of  God's 
will  times  must  come  when  the  elemental  passions  of 
human  nature  will  break  out  with  unrestrained  violence, 
the  teachings  of  morality  will  be  disputed,  their  authority 
will  be  denied,  and  their  yoke  will  be  broken  ;  the 
links  which  hold  the  state  and  the  community  together 
will  snap,  and  the  slow  growths  of  ages  may  disappear 
in  a  moment.  It  is  not  difficult  to  show  the  truth 
of  this  assertion  from  experience.  Every  people  that 
emerges  from  barbarism  has  a  vision  and  a  law ;  a 
certain  revelation  which  forms  the  foundation,  the 
sanction,  the  bond  of  its  corporate  existence.     When 


xxix.  iS.]  THE  NEED   OE  REVELATION.  377 


you  can  point  to  a  tribe  or  a  group  of  tribes  that  know 
nothing  of  God,  and  therefore  have  no  idea  of  revelation, 
you  at  once  assure  us  that  the  people  are  sunk  in  a 
hopeless  savagery.  We  are,  it  is  true,  inclined  to  deny 
the  term  revelation  to  those  systems  of  religion  which 
lie  outside  of  the  Bible,  but  it  is  difficult  to  justify  such 
a  contraction  of  view.  God  has  not  left  Himself  any- 
where without  a  witness.  The  more  closely  we  examine 
the  multitudinous  religions  of  the  earth,  the  more 
clearly  does  it  appear  that  each  of  them  had  at  its 
origin  a  definite,  however  limited,  revelation.  The  idea 
of  One  all-powerful,  good,  and  wise,  God  is  found  at 
the  beginning  of  each  faith  that  can  be  traced  back  far 
enough,  and  the  actual  condition  of  heathen  systems 
always  suggests  a  decline  from  a  higher  and  a  purer 
religion.  We  may  say,  then,  with  much  plausibility, 
that  no  lasting  and  beneficial  form  of  human  society 
has  ever  existed  apart  from  a  vision  and  a  law. 

But  leaving  the  wide  field  of  comparative  religions, 
do  we  not  see  an  illustration  of  the  truth  of  the  text  in 
the  European  countries  which  are  more  subject  to  our 
observation  ?  In  proportion  as  a  people  loses  its  faith 
in  revelation  it  falls  into  decay.  This  was  made  mani- 
fest in  the  experience  of  the  French  Revolution.  When 
the  Jacobins  had  emancipated  themselves  from  the  idea 
of  God,  and  had  come  out  into  the  clear  light  of 
reason,  so  terribly  did  they  ''  cast  off  restraint  "  that 
their  own  leader,  Robespierre,  endeavoured  with  a 
feverish  haste  to  restore  the  recognition  of  God, 
assuming  himself  the  position  of  high  pontiff  to  the 
Supreme  Being.  The  nearest  approach  that  the  world 
has  probably  ever  seen  to  a  government  founded  on 
Atheism  was  this  government  of  the  French  Revolu- 


378  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

tion,  and  a  more  striking  commentary  on  this  text 
could  hardly  be  desired. 

But  the  need  of  a  revelation  can  be  apprehended, 
apart  from  all  appeals  to  history,  by  simply  studying 
the  nature  of  the  spirit  of  man.  Man  must  have  an 
object  of  worship,  and  that  object  must  be  such  as  to 
command  his  worship.  Auguste  Comte  thought  to 
satisfy  this  need  of  the  heart  by  suggesting  Humanity 
as  the  Grand  Etre^  but  Humanity  was  and  is  nothing 
but  an  abstraction.  Feeling  this  himself,  he  recom- 
mended the  worship  of  woman,  and  he  prostrated  his 
heart  before  Clotilde  de  Vaux  ;  but  sacred  and  beauti- 
ful as  a  man's  love  of  a  woman  may  be,  it  is  no 
substitute  for  worship.  We  must  have  quite  another 
than  ourselves  and  our  own  kind,  if  our  hearts  are  to 
find  their  rest.  We  must  have  an  Almighty,  an 
Infinite  ;  we  must  have  one  who  is  Love.  Until  his 
spirit  is  worshipping,  man  cannot  realize  himself,  or 
attain  the  height  of  his  intended  stature. 

Again,  man  must  have  an  assurance  of  his  own 
immortality.  While  he  believes  himself  to  be  mortal, 
a  creature  of  a  day,  and  that  an  uncertain  day,  it  is 
impossible  for  him  to  rise  much  above  the  level  of 
other  ephemeral  things.  His  pursuits  must  be  Hmited, 
and  his  aims  must  be  confined.  His  affections  must  be 
chilled  by  the  shadow  of  death,  and  in  proportion  as 
he  has  nobly  striven  and  tenderly  loved,  his  later  years 
must  be  plunged  in  hopeless  gloom,  because  his  efforts 
have  been  ineffectual  and  his  beloved  have  gone  from 
him.  No  juggling  with  terms  ;  no  half-poetic  raptures 
about  ^'the  choir  invisible,"  can  meet  the  mighty 
craving  of  the  human  heart.  Man  must  be  immortal,  or 
he  is  not  man.     "  He  thinks  he  was  not  made  to  die." 


xxix.  iS.]  THE   NEED   OE  REVELATION.  379 


But  to  meet  these  demands  of  the  spirit  what,  apart 
from  revelation,  can  avail  ?  That  metaphysics  is  futile 
practically  all  men  are  agreed.  Only  the  philosopher 
can  follow  the  dialectics  which  are  to  prove  the  exist- 
ence of  God  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  And 
even  the  philosopher  seems  to  grow  pale  and  wizened 
in  the  process  of  his  demonstration,  and  wins  at  last 
a  vantage-ground  of  cold  conviction,  to  find  that  there 
is  no  comfort  there.  But  can  science  offer  the  assur- 
ance which  philosophy  was  unable  to  give  ?  Let  us 
listen  to  the  conclusion  of  a  scientific  writer  on  this 
subject,  one  who  has  lost  his  hold  on  revelation  and 
can  realize  a  little  of  what  he  has  lost. 

"The  highest  and  most  consoling  beliefs  of  the  human 
mind,"  he  says,  "  are  to  a  great  extent  bound  up  with  the 
Christian  religion.  If  we  ask  ourselves  frankly  how  much, 
apart  from  this  religion,  would  remain  of  faith  in  a  God, 
and  in  a  future  state  of  existence,  the  answer  must  be,  very 
little.  Science  traces  everything  back  to  primeval  atoms 
and  germs,  and  there  it  leaves  us.  How  came  these  atoms 
and  energies  there,  from  which  this  wonderful  universe  of 
worlds  has  been  evolved  by  inevitable  laws  ?  \\niat  are 
they  in  their  essence,  and  what  do  they  mean  ?  The  only 
answer  is.  It  is  unknowable.  It  is  "  behind  the  veil," 
and  may  be  anything.  Spirit  may  be  matter,  matter  may 
be  spirit.  We  have  no  faculties  by  which  we  can  even 
form  a  conception,  from  any  discoveries  of  the  telescope 
or  microscope,  from  any  experiments  in  the  laboratory,  or 
from  any  facts  susceptible  of  real  human  knowledge,  of 
what  may  be  the  first  cause  underlying  all  these  phenomena. 

"  In  like  manner  we  can  already,  to  a  great  extent,  and 
probably  in  a  short  time  shall  be  able  to  the  fullest  extent 
to  trace  the  whole  development  of  life  from  the  lowest  to 
the   highest ;  from  protoplasm,  through  monera,  infusoria, 


38o  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

mollusca,  vertebrata,  fish,  reptile  and  mammal,  up  to  man ; 
and  the  individual  man  from  the  microscopic  egg,  through 
the  various  stages  of  its  evolution  up  to  birth,  childhood, 
maturity,  decline,  and  death.  We  can  trace  also  the 
development  of  the  human  race  through  enormous  periods 
of  time,  from  the  modest  beginnings  up  to  its  present  level 
of  civilisation,  and  show  how  arts,  languages,  morals,  and 
religions  have  been  evolved  gradually  by  human  laws  from 
primitive  elements,  many  of  w^hich  are  common  in  their 
ultimate  form  to  man  and  the  animal  creation. 

"  But  here  also  science  stops.  Science  can  give  no 
account  of  how  these  germs  and  nucleated  cells,  endowed 
with  these  marvellous  capacities  for  evolution,  came  into 
existence,  or  got  their  intrinsic  powers.  Nor  can  science 
enable  us  to  form  the  remotest  conception  of  what  will 
become  of  life,  consciousness,  and  conscience,  when  the 
material  conditions  with  which  they  are  always  associated, 
while  within  human  experience,  have  been  dissolved  by 
death,  and  no  longer  exist.  We  know  as  little,  in  the  way 
of  accurate  and  demonstrable  knowledge,  of  our  condition 
after  death  as  we  do  of  our  existence — if  we  had  an  exist- 
ence— before  birth."  ^ 

Science  frankly  confesses  that  she  can  tell  us  nothing 
of  the  things  which  it  most  concerns  us  to  know.  On 
those  things  she  is  no  farther  advanced  than  she  was 
in  the  days  of  Aristotle.  Never  do  we  feel  how  much 
men  need  a  revelation  so  vividly  as  when  we  have 
grasped  the  first  principles  of  such  a  great  scientific 
thinker  as  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  and  realize  how  far 
he  is  able  to  take  us  and  how  soon  he  has  to  leave  us. 
How  does  it  meet  the  craving  of  the  soul  for  God  to 

*  "  Modern  Science  and  Modern  Thought  "  (pp.  289,  290),  by  S. 
Laing.     Chapman  &  Hall:  1890. 


xxix.  iS.]  THE  NEED   OF  REVELATION.  381 

show  us  the  slow  stages  by  which  man  became  a  Hving 
soul  ?  As  well  might  you  try  to  satisfy  the  musician's 
ear  by  telling  him  how  his  art  had  grown  from  the 
primitive  tom-tom  of  the  savage.  How  can  it  help  the 
life  to  be  lived  wisely,  lovingly,  and  well,  in  the  midst 
of  the  uncertainty  of  the  world,  and  confronted  by  the 
certainty  of  death,  to  be  told  that  our  physical  structure 
is  united  by  a  thousand  immediate  links  with  that  of 
other  mammals.  Such  a  fact  is  insignificant  ;  the 
supreme  fact  is  that  we  are  not  like  other  mammals  in 
the  most  important  respects ;  we  have  hearts  that  long 
and  yearn,  minds  which  enquire  and  question — they 
have  not  ;  we  want  God,  our  heart  and  our  flesh 
crieth  out  for  the  living  God,  and  we  demand  an 
eternal  life — tJiey  do  not. 

How  can  science  pretend  that  what  she  does  not 
know  is  not  knowledge,  while  she  has  to  confess  that 
she  does  not  know  precisely  the  things  which  it  most 
concerns  us  as  men  to  know  ?  How  can  the  spirit  of 
man  be  content  with  the  husks  which  she  gives  him  to 
eat,  when  his  whole  nature  craves  the  kernel  ?  What 
probability  is  there  that  a  man  will  close  his  eyes  to 
the  sun  because  another  person,  very  clever  and  in- 
dustrious, has  shut  himself  up  in  a  dark  cellar,  and  tries 
to  persuade  him  that  his  candle  is  all  the  light  he  may 
legitimately  use,  and  what  cannot  be  seen  by  his  candle 
is  not  real  ? 

No,  science  may  not  prove  revelation,  but  she  proves 
our  need  of  it.  She  does  her  utmost,  she  widens  her 
borders,  she  is  more  earnest,  more  accurate,  more 
informed,  more  efficacious  than  ever  ;  but  she  shows 
that  what  man  most  wants  she  cannot  give, — she  bids 
him  go  elsewhere. 


382  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS, 


But  now  it  may  be  said  :  It  is  one  thing  to  prove 
that  man  needs  a  revelation,  and  another  to  show  that 
a  revelation  has  been  given.  That  is  perfectly  true, 
and  this  is  not  the  place  to  adduce  all  the  evidence  which 
might  prove  that  revelation  is  a  reality ;  but  what  an 
advance  we  have  made  on  the  cold,  self-satisfied  deism 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  which  maintained  that  the 
light  of  nature  was  enough,  and  revelation  was  quite 
superfluous,  when  the  truest  and  most  candid  voices 
of  science  are  declaring  with  such  growing  clearness 
that  for  the  knowledge  which  revelation  professes  to 
give,  revelation,  and  revelation  alone,  will  suffice  ! 

We  Christians  believe  that  we  have  a  revelation,  and 
we  find  that  it  suffices.  It  gives  us  precisely  those 
assurances  about  God  and  about  the  soul  without 
which  we  falter,  grow  bewildered,  and  begin  to 
despond.  We  have  a  vision  and  a  law.  Our  Bible 
is  the  record  of  the  ever-widening,  ever-clearing  vision 
of  God.  The  power  and  authority  of  the  vision  seem 
to  be  the  more  convincing,  just  because  we  are  per- 
mitted to  see  the  process  of  its  development.  Here 
we  are  able  to  stand  with  the  seer  and  see,  not  the 
long  seonian  stages  of  creation  which  science  has  been 
painfully  tracking  out  in  these  later  days,  but  the 
supreme  fact,  which  science  professes  herself  unable 
to  see,  that  God  was  the  Author  of  it  all.  Here  we 
are  able  to  see  the  first  imperfect  conception  of  God 
which  came  in  vision  and  in  thought  to  the  patriarch 
or  sheikh  in  the  earliest  dawn  of  civilisation.  Here 
we  can  observe  the  conceptions  clearing,  through 
Moses,  through  the  Psalmists,  through  the  Prophets, 
until  at  last  we  have  a  vision  of  God  in  the  person  of 
His  Son,  who  is  the  brightness  of  the  Father's  glory, 


xxix.  i8.]  THE  NEED   OF  REVELATION.  383 


the  express  image  of  His  countenance.  We  see  that 
He,  the  unseen  Creator,  is   Love. 

Our  Bible,  too,  is  the  record  of  a  law, — a  law  of 
human  conduct,  the  will  of  God  as  applied  to  earthly 
life.  At  first  the  law  is  confined  to  a  few  primitive 
practices  and  outward  observances ;  then  it  grows  in 
perplexity  and  multiplication  of  details  ;  and  only  after 
a  long  course  of  discipline,  of  effort  and  apparent 
failure,  of  teaching  and  deliberate  disobedience,  is  the 
law  laid  bare  to  its  very  roots,  and  presented  in  the 
simplified  and  self-evidencing  form  of  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount  and  the  apostolic  precepts. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  start  with  any  particular 
theory  about  the  Bible,  any  more  than  it  is  necessary 
to  know  the  substance  of  the  sun  before  we  can  w^arm 
ourselves  in  his  beams.  It  is  not  necessary  to  look  for 
scientific  accuracy  in  the  histories  and  treatises  through 
which  the  vision  and  the  law  are  communicated  to  us. 
We  know  that  the  vessels  are  earthen,  and  the  pre- 
supposition all  through  is  that  the  light  was  only 
growing  from  the  glimmer  of  the  dawn  up  to  the 
perfect  day.  But  we  know,  we  are  persuaded,  that 
here,  to  seeing  eyes  and  humble  hearts,  is  the  revelation 
of  God  and  of  His  will. 

Nor  is  it  only  in  the  Bible  that  God  speaks  to  us. 
There  have  been  times  in  the  history  of  Christendom — 
such  times  as  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century — 
when  though  the  Bible  was  in  men's  hands,  it  seemed 
to  be  almost  a  dead  letter.  "  There  was  no  vision,  and 
the  people  cast  off  restraint."  It  is  by  living  men  and 
women  to  whom  He  grants  visions  and  reveals  truths, 
that  God  maintains  the  purity  and  power  of  His  revela- 
tion  to  us.      He  came  in  vision  to  Fox  and  the  early 


384  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

Friends,  to  Zinzendorf  and  the  early  Moravians,  to 
Wesley  and  the  early  Methodists.  Seldom  does  a 
generation  pass  but  some  seers  are  sent  to  make  the 
Word  of  God  a  living  influence  to  their  age.  The 
vision  is  not  always  unmixed  v^^ith  human  error,  and 
when  it  ceases  to  be  living  it  may  become  obstructive, 
a  cause  of  paralysis  rather  than  of  progress.  But 
Augustine  and  Jerome,  Benedict  and  Leo,  Francis  and 
Dominic,  Luther  and  Calvin,  Ignatius  Loyola  and 
Xavier,  Fenelon  and  Madame  Guyon,  Jonathan  Edwards 
and  Channing,  Robertson  and  Maurice,  Erskine  and 
MacLeod  Campbell,  are  but  examples  of  God's  method 
all  down  the  Christian  ages.  The  vision  comes  pure 
and  fresh  as  if  straight  from  the  presence  of  God. 
Traditionalism  crumbles  away.  Doubt  retreats  like  a 
phantom  of  the  night.  Mighty  moral  revolutions  and 
spiritual  awakenings  are  accomplished  by  the  means 
of  His  chosen  ones.  And  it  should  be  our  desire 
and  our  joy  to  recognise  and  welcome  these  seers 
of  God. 

"He  that  keepeth  the  law,  happy  is  he."  It  is  a 
mournful  thing  to  be  without  a  revelation,  and  to  grope 
in  darkness  at  midday ;  to  hold  one's  mind  in  melan- 
choly suspense,  uncertain  about  God,  about  His  will, 
about  the  life  eternal.  But  it  is  better  to  have  no  re- 
velation than  to  have  it  and  disregard  it.  Honest  doubt 
is  full  of  necessary  sorrow,  but  to  believe  and  not  to 
obey  is  the  road  to  inevitable  ruin.^    '^  He  that  keepeth  " 

'  Cf.  Prov.  xxviii.  4,  9  : — 

"  They  that  forsake  the  law  praise  the  wicked  ; 
But  such  as  keep  the  law  contend  with  them. 
He  that  turneth  away  his  ear  from  hearing  the  law 
Even  his  prayer  is  an  abomination." 


xxix.  iS.]  THE  NEED   OF  REVELATION.  385 

— yes,  he  that  looks  into  revelation,  not  for  curiosity, 
but  for  a  law  by  which  to  live  ;  who  listens  to  the  wise 
precepts,  not  in  order  to  exclaim,  "  How  wise  they 
are  !  "  but  in  order  to  act  on  them. 

There  are  many  professing  Christians  who  are  con- 
stantly plunged  in  gloom.  Unbelievers  may  point  the 
finger  at  them,  and  say,  "  They  believe  in  God,  in 
salvation,  and  in  heaven,  but  see  what  an  effect  it  has 
on  them.  Do  they  really  believe  ? "  Oh,  yes,  they 
really  believe,  but  they  do  not  obey ;  and  no  amount 
of  faith  brings  any  lasting  happiness  apart  from 
obedience.  The  law  requires  us  to  love  God,  to  love 
men ;  it  requires  us  to  abstain  from  all  appearance  of 
evil,  to  touch  not  the  unclean  thing  ;  it  bids  us  love 
not  the  world,  it  tells  us  how  impossible  the  double 
service  of  God  and  mammon  is.  Now  though  we  believe 
it  all  it  can  give  us  nothing  but  pain  unless  we  live  up 
to  it.  If  there  is  a  vision  and  we  shut  our  eyes  to  it, 
if  there  is  a  law  and  we  turn  away  from  it,  woe  unto 
us  !  But  if  we  receive  the  vision,  if  we  loyally  and 
earnestly  keep  the  law,  the  world  cannot  fathom  the 
depth  of  our  peace,  nor  rise  to  the  height  of  our  joy. 


25 


XXX. 

THE    WORDS   OF  AGUR. 

The  rendering  of  the  first  verse  of  this  chapter  is  very  uncertain. 
Without  attempting  to  discuss  the  many  conjectural  emendations, 
we  must  briefly  indicate  the  view  which  is  here  taken.  A  sHght 
alteration  in  the  pointing  O^  ''O'^N?  instead  of  the  Masoretic  reading 
T'ts'^rr'N?)  changes  the  proper  name  Ithiel  into  a  significant  verb  ; 
and  another  slight  change  P?^?)  for  /p^Sl)  gives  us  another  verb  in 
the  place  of  Ucal.  To  remove  the  difficulty  of  the  word  "oracle,"  a 
difficulty  which  arises  from  the  fact  that  the  chapter  which  follows 
is  not  a  prophetic  utterance  of  the  kind  to  which  that  word  might  be 
applied,  it  is  necessary,  with  Gratz,  to  make  a  more  serious  change,  and 
to  read  P^^-'J^H  for  XtJ'^H.  And  to  explain  the  word  "113  H,  which  occurs 
in  a  similar  connection  in  Numb.  xxiv.  3,  15,  and  2  Sam.  xxiii.  I, 
we  must  suppose  that  some  relative  clause  defining  the  nature  of 
"  the  man  "  has  been  dropped.  The  great  uncertainty  of  the  text  is 
witnessed  by  the  LXX.,  who  place  this  passage  after  xxiv.  23,  and 
give  a  rendering  which  has  very  little  resemblance  to  our  present 
Hebrew  text.  It  is  highly  probable,  both  from  the  subject  matter  and 
from  the  numerical  arrangements,  which  are  thoroughly  Rabbinical, 
that  this  chapter  and  chap.  xxxi.  are  of  late  origin,  and  represent  the 
last  phase  of  the  proverbial  literature  of  Israel  in  the  daj^s  after  the 
return  from  the  Exile.  If  this  be  so,  the  obscurity  and  uncertainty 
are  characteristic  of  an  artificial  period  of  literature,  and  of  a  decay 
in  literary  taste.  Adopting,  then,  the  alterations  which  have  been 
mentioned,  we  obtain  the  following  result : — 

"  The  words  of  Agur  the  son  of  Jakeh,  the  proverb-writer  : 
The  utterance  of  the  man  [who  has  questioned  and   thought] :  I 
have  wearied  after  God,  I  have  wearied  after  God,  and  am  faint,  for 
I  am  too  stupid  for  a  man,  and  am  without  reason,  and  I  have  not 
learned  wisdom,  nor  have  I  knowledge  of  the  All  Holy,"  etc. 

THIS  chapter  is  full  of  curious  interest.     It  is  a  col- 
lection of  sayings  which  are  apparently  connected 
only  by  the  circumstance  that  they  were  attributed  to 


THE   WORDS   OF  AGUR.  3S7 


one  person,  Agur,  the  son  of  Jakeh.  Whoever  Agur 
was,  he  had  a  certain  marked  individuality  ;  he  combined 
meditation  on  lofty  questions  of  theology  with  a  sound 
theory  of  practical  life.  He  was  able  to  give  valuable 
admonitions  about  conduct.  But  his  characteristic 
delight  was  to  group  together  in  quatrains  visible  illus- 
trations of  selected  qualities  or  ideas. 

It  may  be  well  for  us  to  glance  at  these  picturesque 
groups,  and  then  to  return  to  the  more  philosophical 
and  religious  sentiments  with  which  the  chapter 
opens. 

"  Slander  not  a  servant  to  his  master,"  says  Agur, 
''  lest  the  servant  curse  thee,  and  thou  be  held  guilty." 
Even  underlings  have  their  rights;  the  Lord  makes 
their  cause  His  own,  and  a  curse  from  them  falls  with 
as  much  weight  on  a  slanderer  as  the  words  of  more 
influential  people.  It  is  one  of  the  surest  tests  of  a 
man's  character  to  see  how  he  treats  servants ;  if  he 
is  uniformly  courteous,  considerate,  just,  and  generous 
in  his  treatment  of  them,  we  may  safely  infer  that  he 
is  a  noble  character ;  if  he  is  haughty,  domineering, 
revengeful,  and  malicious  to  them,  we  need  not  attach 
much  importance  to  his  pleasing  manners  and  plausible 
services  to  those  whom  he  considers  his  equals. 

Now  follow  two  of  these  singular  quatrains.  There 
are  four  kinds  of  men  pointed  out,  and  held  up,  not 
to  our  abhorrence,  that  is  unnecessary,  but  simply  to 
our  observation  :  the  unfilial,  the  self-righteous,  the 
haughty,  and  the  rapacious  who  devour  the  poor  and 
the  needy.  It  is  not  necessary  to  say  anything  about 
these  persons.  Their  doom  is  stamped  on  their  brows  ; 
to  name  them  is  to  condemn  them  ;  to  describe  them 
is  to  write  out  their  sentence. 


388  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

Again,  there  are  four  things  which  Hke  the  blood- 
sucking horse-leech  are  always  insatiable.  The  vampire 
has  her  daughters  in  the  earth ;  it  is,  as  Professor 
Cheyne  says,  "a  quasi-mythical  expression."  These 
daughters  are  two,  nay,  they  are  three,  nay,  they  are 
four ;  and  they  are,  as  it  were,  the  representatives  of 
all  creation :  ^  Sheol,  the  invisible  world,  which  draws 
into  itself  the  countless  generations  of  the  dead ;  the 
generative  principle,  which  never  wearies  of  producing 
new  generations  of  the  Hving ;  the  earth,  which  is  for 
ever  absorbing  the  cadent  waters  of  heaven ;  and  the 
fire,  which  will  consume  all  the  fuel  that  is  given  to  it. 

Now  follows  a  further  comment  upon  unfihal  conduct : 
the  eye  is  regarded  as  the  instrument  by  which  a  son 
shows  his  feelings  to  his  parents ;  he  has  not  perhaps 
gone  the  length  of  uttering  a  curse  against  them,  still 
less  of  raising  his  hand  to  ill-treat  them,  but  his  eye 
flashes  derision  upon  his  father,  and  by  its  haughty 
obstinacy  declares  that  it  will  not  obey  his  mother. 
The  offending  member  shall  be  picked  out  by  the 
clamorous  ravens,  and  eaten  by  the  young  of  the 
soaring  eagle. 

Next  we  have  four  more  quatrains.  First,  there  are 
the  four  wonders  which  baffle  Agur's  understanding; 
wonders  which  are  comprehensible  only  to  God,  as  the 
Vedic  hymn  says, — 

"  The  path  of  ships  across  the  sea, 
The  soaring  eagle's  flight  he  knows." 

'  Cf.  the  Sanscrit  Hitopadesa,  "  Fire  is  never  satisfied  with  fuel, 
nor  the  ocean  with  rivers,  nor  death  with  all  creatures,  nor  bright- 
eyed  women  with  men  ;  "  also  the  Arabic  proverb,  "Three  things  are 
of  three  never  full,  women's  womb  of  man,  wood  of  fire,  and  earth  of 


THE   WORDS  OF  AGUR.  389 

The  wonder  seems  to  be  in  the  reality  and  power  of 
impalpable  things.  How  little  of  all  that  passes  in  the 
universe  is  open  to  observation,  or  leaves  a  track  behind. 
The  eagle  mounts  through  the  air  as  if  he  marched  on 
a  solid  beaten  road  ;  the  serpent,  without  limbs,  glides 
over  the  smooth  rock  where  feet  would  slip,  and  leaves 
no  trace  behind  ;  the  ship  ploughs  the  deep,  and  over 
trackless  waters  follows  her  track  which  is  invisible ;  a 
man  and  a  maid  meet,  swift  glances  pass,  hearts  blend, 
and  that  is  done  which  can  never  be  undone ;  or  on 
the  evil  side,  the  bad  woman  follows  her  illicit  and 
hidden  courses,  while  to  all  appearance  she  is  a  faithful 
wife  and  mother. 

Secondly,  there  are  four  human  conditions  which  are 
intolerable  to  society,  viz.,  an  essentially  servile  spirit 
put  into  the  place  of  authority ;  a  fool  who,  instead  01 
being  corrected,  is  confirmed  in  his  folly  by  prosperity ; 
a  marriage  where  the  wife  is  hated  ;  and  a  slave  girl 
in  the  position  which  Hagar  occupied  with  relation  to 
Sarah  her  mistress. 

Thirdl}^,  there  are  four  kinds  of  animals  which 
illustrate  that  size  is  not  necessarily  greatness,  and 
that  it  is  possible  to  be  insignificant  and  yet  wise. 
The  tiny  ants  are  a  model  of  intelligent  mutual  co- 
operation and  prudent  thrift.  The  little  jerboas  seem 
helpless  enough,  but  they  are  sensible  in  the  choice  of 
their  homes,  for  they  dwell  securely  in  rocky  fastnesses. 
The  locusts  seem  as  weak  and  inoffensive  as  insects 
can  be,  yet  they  form  a  mighty  army,  ordered  in 
battle  array ;  "  they  run  like  mighty  men  ;  they  climb 
the  wall  like  men  of  war;  and  they  march  every  one 
in  his  ways,  and  they  break  not  their  ranks."  ^     The 

'  Joel  ii.  7. 


390  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 


lizard  seems  but  a  plebeian  creature ;  you  can  seize  it 
with  your  hands  ;  it  is  defenceless  and  devoid  of  natural 
capabilities ;  and  yet  with  its  swift  crawlings  and  tire- 
less dartings  it  will  find  its  way  into  kings'  palaces, 
where  greater  and  stronger  creatures  cannot  enter. 

Lastly,  there  are  four  things  which  impress  one  with 
their  stateliness  of  motion  ;  the  lion,  the  creature  that 
is  girt  in  the  loins,  whether  a  v/ar-horse  or  a  greyhound, 
the  he-goat,  and — surely  with  a  little  touch  of  satire — 
the  king  when  his  army  is  with  him. 

Then  the  collection  of  Agur's  sayings  ends  with  a 
wise  and  picturesque  word  of  counsel  to  exercise  a 
strong  restraint  over  our  rising  passions. 

But  now  we  may  turn  back  to  the  passage  with  which 
the  chapter  opens.  Here  is  the  cry  of  one  who  has 
sought  to  find  out  God.  It  is  an  old  and  a  mournful 
cry.  Many  have  emitted  it  from  the  beginning ;  many 
utter  it  now.  But  few  have  spoken  with  more  pathetic 
humility,  few  have  made  us  feel  with  so  much  force 
the  solemnity  and  the  difficulty  of  the  question  as  this 
unknown  Agur.  We  see  a  brow  wrinkled  with  thought, 
eyes  dimmed  with  long  and  close  observation ;  it  is  not 
the  boor  or  the  sot  that  makes  this  humiliating  con- 
fession ;  it  is  the  earnest  thinker,  the  eager  enquirer. 
He  has  meditated  on  the  wonderful  facts  of  the  physical 
world ;  he  has  watched  the  great  trees  sway  under  the 
touch  of  the  invisible  wind,  and  the  waves  rise  up  in 
their  might,  lashing  the  shores,  but  vainly  essaying  to 
pass  their  appointed  boundaries ;  he  has  considered 
the  vast  expanse  of  the  earth,  and  enquired,  on  what 
foundations  does  it  rest,  and  where  are  its  limits? 
He  cannot  question  the  ''eternal  power  and  divinity" 
which   can    alone  account   for   this   ordered  universe. 


THE  iroiws  OF  agur.  391 


lie  has  not,  like  many  thinkers  ancient  and  modern, 
"  dropped  a  plummet  down  the  broad  deep  universe, 
and  cried,  No  God."  He  knows  that  there  is  a  God; 
there  must  be  an  Intelligence  able  to  conceive, 
coupled  with  a  power  able  to  realize,  this  mighty 
mechanism.  But  who  is  it  ?  What  is  His  name  or 
His  Son's  name  ?  Here  are  the  footsteps  of  the  Creator, 
but  where  is  the  Creator  Himself?  Here  are  the  signs 
of  His  working  on  every  hand.  There  is  an  invisible 
power  that  ascends  and  descends  on  the  earth  by  stair- 
cases unseen.  Who  is  He  ?  These  careering  winds, 
before  which  we  are  powerless,  obey  some  control ; 
sometimes  they  are  ''  upgathered  like  sleeping  flowers  ; " 
who  is  it  that  holds  them  then  ?  These  great  waters 
sway  to  and  fro,  or  they  pour  in  ceaseless  currents 
from  their  fountains,  or  they  gather  in  the  quiet  hollows 
of  the  hills ;  but  who  is  it  that  appoints  the  ocean,  and 
the  river,  and  the  lake  ?  Who  feeds  them  all,  and 
restrains  them  all  ?  Whose  is  the  garment  which  holds 
them  as  a  v/oman  carries  a  pitcher  lashed  to  her  back 
in  the  fold  of  her  dress  ?  The  earth  is  no  phantom, 
no  mirage,  it  is  solid  and  established ;  but  who  gave 
to  matter  its  reality,  and  in  the  ceaseless  flux  of  the 
atoms  fixed  the  abiding  forms,  and  ordered  the  appro- 
priate relations  ?  Ah  !  what  is  His  name  ?  Has  He 
a  son  ?  Is  man,  for  instance.  His  son  ?  Or  does  the 
idea  of  the  Eternal  and  Invisible  God  imply  also  an 
Eternal  Son,  a  Being  one  with  Him,  yet  separable,  the 
object  of  His  love,  the  instrument  of  His  working, 
the  beginning  of  His  creation  ?  Who  is  He  ?  That 
He  is  holy  seems  an  inevitable  conclusion  from  the 
fact  that  we  know  what  holiness  is,  and  recognise  its 
sovereignty.       For   how,    in    thinking   of    the    mighty 


392  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

Being  who  made  all  things,  dare  I  give  Him  a  lower 
attribute  than  that  which  I  can  give  to  my  fellow-men  ? 
How  dare  I  withhold  from  Him  that  which  I  know  of 
the  Highest  and  the  Best  ?  But  though  I  know  that 
He  is  holy,  the  All  Holy  One  I  do  not  know.  My 
weak  and  sinful  nature  has  glimpses  of  Him,  but  no 
steady  visions.  I  lose  Him  in  the  confused  welter  of 
things.  I  catch  the  gleam  of  His  face  in  the  hues  of 
the  rainbow  and  in  the  glow  of  the  eternal  hills ;  but 
I  lose  it  when  I  strive  to  follow  among  the  angry 
gatherings  of  the  stormclouds,  in  the  threatening 
crash  of  the  thunder,  the  roar  of  the  avalanche,  and  the 
rent  ruins  of  the  earthquake. 

And  the  man,  considering  all  things,  questioning, 
seeking,  exclaims,  "  I  am  weary  and  faint."  The 
splendours  of  God  haunt  his  imagination,  the  sanctities 
of  God  fill  his  conscience  with  awe,  the  thoughts  of 
God  lie  as  presuppositions  behind  all  his  thinking. 
But  he  has  not  understanding  ;  baffled  and  foiled  and 
helpless,  he  says  that  he  is  too  brutish  to  be  a  man. 
Surely  a  man  would  know  God ;  surely  he  must  be  but 
one  of  the  soulless  creatures,  dust  of  the  dust,  for  he 
has  not  the  knowledge  of  the  Holy  One. 

To  this  impetuous  hail  of  questions  an  answer  comes. 
For  indeed  in  the  fact  that  the  questions  are  put  already 
the  answer  lies.  In  the  humble  cry  that  he  is  too 
stupid  to  be  a  man  is  already  the  clearest  proof  that  he 
is  raised  incalculably  above  the  brute. 

But  who  is  it  that  offers  the  answer  in  vv.  5-9  ?  It 
would  seem  as  if  Agur  himself  has  suggested  the  ques- 
tion— a  question  borrowed  probably  from  some  noble 
heathen  thinker ;  and  now  he  proceeds  to  meet  the 
wild  and  despairing  outcry  with  the  results  of  his  own 


THE    IVORDS   OF  AGUR.  393 

reflection.  He  does  not  attempt  the  answer  on  the 
Hnes  of  natural  reHgion.  His  answer  in  effect  is  this  : 
You  cannot  know  God,  you  cannot  by  searching  find 
Him  unless  He  reveals  Himself;  His  revelation  must 
come  as  an  articulate  and  intelligible  word.  As  the 
Psalm  sa^'s — for  it  seems  to  be  a  quotation  from  Psalm 
xviii.  30 — "  Every  word  of  God  is  tried  :  He  is  a 
shield  unto  them  that  trust  in  Him."  Agur  appeals  to 
a  written  revelation,  a  revelation  which  is  complete  and 
rounded,  and  to  which  no  further  addition  may  be  made 
(ver.  6).  It  was  probably  the  time  when  Ezra  the  scribe 
had  gathered  together  the  Law  and  the  Psalms  and  the 
Prophets,  and  had  formed  the  first  scriptural  canon. 
Since  then  a  great  deal  has  been  added  to  the  canon, 
these  words  of  Agur  among  the  rest,  but  the  assertion 
remains  essentially  true.  Our  knowledge  of  God  de- 
pends on  His  self-revelation,  and  the  method  of  that 
revelation  is  to  speak,  through  the  lips  of  God-possessed 
men,  words  which  are  tried  by  experience  and  proved 
by  the  living  faith  of  those  who  trust  in  God.  '*  I  am 
that  I  am "  has  spoken  to  men,  and  to  Him,  the 
Eternally-existent,  have  they  ascribed  the  visible  uni- 
verse. "The  God  of  Israel"  has  spoken  to  men,  and 
they  have  learnt  therefore  to  trace  His  hand  in  history 
and  in  the  development  of  human  affairs.  The  Holy 
One  has  in  prophets  and  poets  spoken  to  men,  and 
they  have  become  aware  that  all  goodness  comes  from 
Him,  and  all  evil  is  hateful  to  Him.  And  lastly.  His 
Son  has  spoken  to  men,  and  has  declared  Him  in  a  way 
that  never  could  have  been  dreamed,  has  shown  them 
the  Father,  has  revealed  that  new  unutterable  Name. 

The  answer  to  the  great  cry  of  the  human  heart,  the 
wearied,  fainting  human  heart,  is  given  only  in  revela- 


394  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

tion,  in  the  tried  word  of  God,  and  completely  only  in 
the  Word  of  God  that  was  made  flesh.  The  proof  of 
that  revelation  is  furnished  to  all  those  who  trust  in 
the  God  so  revealed,  for  He  becomes  a  shield  to  them  ; 
they  abide  under  the  shadow  of  His  realized  presence. 
It  is  not  possible  to  add  unto  the  words  of  God  ;  our 
speculations  lead  us  farther,  but  they  only  lead  us  into 
error ;  and  by  them  we  incur  His  reproof,  and  our 
fictions  become  disastrously  exposed.  The  answer  to 
philosophy  is  in  revelation,  and  they  who  do  not  accept 
the  revealed  answer  are  left  asking  eternally  the  same 
weary  and  hopeless  question,  ''  What  is  his  name,  and 
what  is  his  son's  name  ?  " 

And  now,  with  a  quaint  and  practical  homeliness 
which  is  very  suggestive,  Agur  notices  two  conditions, 
which  he  has  evidently  observed  to  be  necessary  if  we 
are  to  find  the  answer  which  revelation  gives  to  the 
enquiry  of  the  human  heart  after  God.  First  of  all  we 
must  be  rid  of  vanity  and  lies.  How  true  this  is  ! 
We  may  hold  the  Bible  in  our  hands,  but  while  our 
hearts  are  void  of  seriousness  and  sincerity  we  can 
find  nothing  in  it,  certainly  no  word  of  God.  A  vain 
person  and  an  untruthful  person  can  receive  no 
genuine  revelation  ;  they  may  believe,  or  think  that 
they  believe,  the  current  religious  dogmas,  and  they 
may  be  able  to  give  a  verbal  answer  to  the  question 
which  we  have  been  considering,  but  they  cannot  have 
the  knowledge  of  the  Holy  One.  More  than  half  the 
godlessness  of  men  is  due  simply  to  want  of  earnest- 
ness ;  they  are  triflers  on  the  earth,  they  are  painted 
bubbles,  which  burst  if  any  solid  thing  touches  them ; 
they  are  drifting  vapours  and  exhalations,  which  pass 
away  and  leave  not  a  wrack  behind.     But   there  are 


THE   IVORDS   OF  AGUR.  395 

many  men  who  are  serious  enough  in  their  search  for 
knowledge,  and  yet  arc  vitiated  through  and  through 
by  a  radical  want  of  truthfulness.  They  are  prepared 
for  facts,  but  only  facts  of  a  certain  sort.  They  want 
to  know  God,  but  only  on  condition  that  He  shall  not 
be  supernatural.  They  want  to  study  the  truths  of 
the  spiritual  world,  but  only  on  condition  that  the 
spiritual  shall  be  material.  O  remove  far  from  me 
vanities  and  lies  ! 

Then  there  is  a  second  condition  desirable  for  the  due 
appreciation  of  religious  truth,  a  social  and  econo- 
mical condition.  Agur  might  have  known  our  modern 
world  with  its  terrible  extremes  of  wealth  and  poverty. 
He  perceived  how  hard  it  is  for  the  rich  to  enter  the 
kingdom  of  heaven ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  how  prob- 
able it  is  that  hungry  men  will  be  seduced  into  stealing 
and  betrayed  into  blasphemy.  That  there  is  much 
truth  in  this  view  w^e  may  easily  satisfy  ourselves  by 
considering  the  wealthy  classes  in  England,  whose 
question,  urged  through  all  their  pomp  and  ceremonial 
of  heartless  worship,  is  practically,  "  Who  is  the  Lord  ?  " 
and  by  then  looking  at  the  eight  hundred  thousand 
paupers  of  England,  amongst  whom  religion  is  practi- 
cally unknown  except  as  a  device  for  securing  food. 

And  when  we  have  duly  weighed  this  saying  of 
Agur's,  we  may  come  to  see  that  among  all  the  pressing 
religious  and  spiritual  problems  of  our  day,  this  also 
must  be  entertained  and  solved,  How  to  secure  a  more 
equable  distribution  of  wealth,  so  that  the  extremes  of 
wealth  and  poverty  should  disappear,  and  all  should  be 
fed  with  the  food  that  is  needful  for  them. 


XXXI. 

A    GOOD   WOMAN. 

"  O  woman-hearts,  that  keep  the  da3'S  of  old 
In  living  memory,  ca-nyon  stand  back 
When  Christ  calls  ?     Shall  the  heavenly  Master  lack 
The  serving  love,  which  is  your  life's  fine  gold  ? 

"  Do  you  forget  the  hand  which  placed  the  crown 
Of  happy  freedom  on  the  woman's  head, 
And  took  her  from  the  dying  and  the  dead, 
Lifting  the  wounded  soul  long  trodden  down  ? 

"  Do  you  forget  who  bade  the  morning  break. 
And  snapped  the  fetters  of  the  iron  years  ? 
The  Saviour  calls  for  service  :  from  your  fears 
Rise  girt  with  faith,  and  work  for  His  dear  sake ! 

"And  He  will  touch  the  trembling  lips  with  fire, — 
O  let  us  hasten,  lest  we  come  too  late  ! 
And  all  shall  work;  if  some  must  '  stand  and  wait,' 
Be  theirs  that  wrestUng  prayer  that  will  not  tire." 

R.  O. 

THE  last  chapter  of  the  book  of  Proverbs  consists 
of  two  distinct  compositions,  and  the  only  con- 
nection between  them  is  to  be  found  in  their  date. 
The  words  of  King  Lemuel,  "  a  sa3dng  which  his  mother 
taught  him,"  ^  and  the  description  of  a  good  woman/ 
must  both  be  referred  to  a  very  late  epoch  of  Hebrew 
literature.     The  former  contains  several  Aramaic  words  ^ 

^  Prov.  xxxi,  1-9.  -  Prov.  xxxi,  10-31. 

^  E.g.,  13   ver.    2   and   P^?^   ver.   3  :  cf.   the  strange    expressions 
'•:r\^3-'?3  and  ?]'l^q  '^^h'^  in  vv.  5,8. 


A   GOOD   WOMAN.  397 


and  expressions  which  connect  it  with  the  period 
of  the  exile  ;  and  the  latter  is  an  alphabetical  acrostic, 
i.e.,  the  verses  begin  with  the  successive  letters  of  the 
alphabet;  and  this  artificial  mode  of  composition,  which 
appears  also  in  some  of  the  Psalms,  is  sufficient  of 
itself  to  indicate  the  last  period  of  the  literature,  when 
the  Rabbinical  methods  were  coming  into  use. 

About  the  words  of  Lemuel,  of  whom  it  may  be 
observed  we  know  nothing  at  all,  enough  has  been 
said  in  previous  lectures.  We  need  here  only  notice 
that  the  mother's  influence  in  the  education  of  her  son, 
even  though  that  son  is  to  be  a  king,  comes  very 
suitably  as  the  introduction  to  the  beautiful  description 
of  the  good  woman  with  which  the  chapter  closes.  It 
is  said  that  the  rnother  of  jGeorge  III.  brought  him  up 
with  the  constantly-repeated  admonition,  ''  George,  be 
a  king,"  and  that  to  this  early  training  was  due  that 
exalted  notion  of  the  prerogative  and  that  obstinate 
assertion  of  his  will  which  occasioned  the  calamities 
of  his  reign.  Kings  have  usually  been  more  ready  to 
imbibe  such  lessons  than  moral  teaching  from  their 
mothers ;  but  whatever  may  be  the  actual  result,  we  all 
feel  that  a  woman  is  never  more  nobly  occupied  than  in 
warning  her  son  against  the  seductions  of  pleasure,  and 
in  giving  to  him  a  high  sense  of  duty.  It  is  from  a 
mother's  lips  we  should  all  learn  to  espouse  the  cause 
of  the  helpless  and  the  miserable,  and  to  bear  an  open 
heart  for  the  poor  and  needy.^ 

But  now  before  coming  to  examine  in  detail  the 
poem  of  the  virtuous  woman,  let  us  briefly  recall  what 
the  book  hitherto  has  taught  us  on  the  subject  of 
womanhood.     It  began   with  solemn  and  oft-repeated 


Prov.  xxxi.  8,  9. 


398  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

warnings  against  the  "  strange  woman,"  and  echoes  of 
that  mournful  theme  have  accompanied  us  throughout : 
the  strange  woman  is  a  deep  ditch,  a  narrow  pit ;  he 
that  is  abhorred  of  the  Lord  shall  fall  therein.^  And 
even  where  the  woman's  nature  is  not  corrupted  by 
impurity  we  are  several  times  reminded  how  she  may 
destroy  the  peace  of  man's  life  by  certain  faults  of 
temper.  If  she  is  contentious  and  fretful  she  can  make 
the  house  utterly  unbearable ;  it  will  be  better  to  hve 
in  a  corner  of  the  housetop  or  in  a  desert  land,  exposed 
to  the  continual  downpour  of  the  autumn  rains,  than  to 
be  assailed  by  her  tongue.^  The  attempt  to  restrain 
her  is  like  trying  to  grasp  the  wind,  or  to  seize  an 
object  which  is  smeared  with  oil.^  We  are  reminded 
too  how  incongruously  sometimes  great  beauty  of 
person  is  combined  with  inward  faults.  ''  As  a  jewel 
of  gold  in  a  swine's  snout,  so  is  a  fair  woman  which  is 
^  without  discretion."^ 

■         But  we  must  distinctly  understand  that  these  severe 
<^  "^    strictures  on  woman  corrupted  and  woman   imperfect 
are  only  so  many  witnesses  to  her  value  and  import- 
ance.    The  place  she  fills  in  life  is  so  supreme  that  if 


she  fails  in  hpr  duty 
^  heF-iiands  lie  the 


human  life  as  a_whole  is  a  failure. 

issues  of  life  for  mankind.  "  The 
/Wisdon>  of  woman  builds  her  house,  and  the  folly  of 
Vemafi  plucks  it  down  with  her  hands."  ^  What  the 
^homes  of^  nation  are,  the  nation  is  ;  and  it  is  woman's 
high  and  beautiful  function  to  make  the  homes,  and 
within  her  power  lies  the  terrible  capacity  for  marring 

them.     She,  much  more  than  the  king,^  the  fountain 

,j— -~ — — 

^  Prov.  xxii.  14,  xxiii,  27.  *  Prov.  xi.  22. 

^  Prov.  xix.  13,  xxi.  9,  xxv.  24,  xxi,  19,  xxvii.  15.        ^  Prov.  xiv.  i. 
^  Prov.  xxvii.  16. 


xxxi.]  A    GOOD  WOMAN.  399 

_/ 

of  honour.^  The  honour  she  gives  and  the  honour  she 
^commands  will  decide  the  whole  tone  of  society.  Pure, 
true,  and  strong,  she  makes  men  worship  purity,  truth, 
and  strength.  Corrupt,  false,  and  vain,  she  blights  and 
blasts  the  ideal  of  man,  lowers  all  his  aspirations, 
excites  his  evil  passions  to  a  frenzy  of  iniquity,  degrades 
his  soul  to  a  level  below  the  brutes. 

The   condition    of  woman   is    the    touchstone    of  a 
civilised  society. 

Again,  there  is  a  sense  in  which  woman  is  an  inter-_ 
preter  and  revealer  of  God  to  the  human  race.  She 
has  religious  intuitions 'and  spiritual  susceptibilities  in 
whicKThe  other  sex  is  usually  deficient.  Most  religious 
systems  in  the  world's  history  have  overlooked  her, 
and  have  suffered  accordingly.  The  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ  recognised  her,  claimed  for  her  her  rightful 
place,  and~~to  this  day  does  much  of  its  best  work 
in  the  world  through  her  gracious  ministrations, 
through  her  unquestioning  faith,  through  her  un- 
quenchable love.  It  is  as  a  foreshadowing  of  this 
religious  significance  which  Christ  was  to  give  to 
womanhood  that  the  Proverbs  recognise  the  beautiful 
direct  relatioir  between  God  and  the  possession  of  a 
good  wife.  ^^'  Whoso  findeth  a  wife  findeth  a  good 
thing,  and  obtaineth  favour  of  the  Lord."  ^  Wealth,  as 
it  is  ordinarily  understood,  is  of  the  earth, — it  can 
be  derived  from  ancestors  by  inheritance,  or  it  can 
be  earned  by  toil  of  hand  and  brain, — but  every 
wife  worthy  of  the  name  is  far  above  all  wealth :  she 
cannot  be  earned  or  inherited ;  she  comes,  as  the 
mother  of  mankind  came,  direct  from  the  hand  of  the 


'  Prov.  xi.  1 6.  *  Prov.  xviii,  22. 


400  THE  BOOK   OF  PROVERBS. 

Lord.^  The  marriage  /tie  is  a  thought  of  God's  he^t. 
He  Himself  h^_^anged  the  exquisite  blending  of 
Hfe  with  life  and  spirit  with  spirit ;  He  has  fitted  man 
to  woman  and  woman  to  man,  so  that  the  perfect  man 
is  not  the  man  alone,  the  perfect  woman  is  not  the 
woman  alone,  but  the  man  and  woman  one  flesh, 
mystically  united,  the  completeness  each  of  the  other ; 
not  two,  but  a  single  whole. 

We  may  now  examine  in  detail  this  connected 
description  of  the  virtuous  woman,  whose  value  is  not 
to  be  measured  by  material  wealth,  and  who  yet,  from 
a  merely  material  point  of  view,  is  a  source  of  wealth 
to  those  who  are  fortunate  enough  to  call  her  theirs. 

She  is  a  wife.     The  modern  conception  of  a  woman 
as  an  independent  person,  standing  alone,  engaged  in 
her  own  business  or  profession,  and  complete  in  her 
isolated   life,  is  not  to  be  looked   for   in  the   book  of 
Proverbs.      It   is    the   creation   of  accidental   circum- 
stances.    However  necessary  it  may  be  in  a  country  ^^ 
where  the  women  are  largely  in  excess  of  the  men,  it  ^ 
cannot  be   regarded  as  final  or  satisfactory.     In    the, 
beginning  it  was  not  so,  neither  will  it  be  so  in  the  end. 
If  men  and  women  are 'to   abide  in  strength   and   to 
develope  the  many  sides  of  their  nature,  they  must  be 
united.     It  is  not  good  for  man  to  be  alone;  nor  is  it  . 
good  for  woman  to  be  alone.     There  are  some  passages 

'  Prov.  xix.  14.  In  the  LXX.  this  clause  is  beautifully  rendered 
irapa  5^  KvpLov  ap/xd^erat  7i;j'7?  dvSpi.  By  the  Lord's  ordinance  woman  ' ' 
and  man  are  dovetailed  together  in  a  complete  harmony.  The 
thought  is  well  expanded  in  Ecclesiasticus  (xxvi.  1-3):  "Blessed  is 
the  man  that  has  a  virtuous  wife,  for  thereby  his  life  is  doubled.  A 
woman  made  for  a  man  rejoices  her  husband,  and  he  shall  fulfil  the 
years  of  his  life  in  peace.  A  virtuous  wife  is  a  good  portion,  in  the  ' 
portion  of  them  that  fear  the  Lord  shall  she  be  given." 


xxxi.]  A    GOOD   WOMAN.  401 

in  the  New  Testament  which  seem  to  invalidate  this 
truth.  The  advocates  of  celibacy  appeal  to  the  example 
of  Christ  and  to  the  express  words  of  St.  Paul.  But 
the  New  Testament,  as  our  Lord  Himself  expressly 
declares,  does  not  abrogate  the  eternal  law  which  was 
from  the  beginning.  And  if  He  Himself  abstained  from 
marriage,  and  if  St.  Paul  seems  to  approve  of  such 
an  abstention,  we  must  seek  for  the  explanation  in 
certain  exceptional  and  temporary  circumstances ;  for 
it  is  precisely  to  Christ  Himself  in  the  first  instance, 
and  to  His  great  Apostle  in  the  second,  that  we  owe 
our  loftiest  and  grandest  conceptions  of  marriage. 
There  was  no  room  for  a  personal  marriage  in  the 
life  of  Him  who  was  to  be  the  Bridegroom  of  His 
Church  ;  and  St.  Paul  distinctly  implies  that  the  press- 
ing troubles  and  anxieties  of  his  own  life,  and  the 
:onstant  wearing  labours  which  were  required  of  the 
Gentile  Apostle,  formed  the  reason  why  it  was  better 
♦or  him,  and  for  such  as  he,  to  remain  single. 

At  any  rate  the  virtuous  woman  of  the  Proverbs  is 
■:  wife  :  and  the  first  thing  to  observe  is  the  part  she 
plays  in  relatioiyto  her  husband.  She  is  his  stay  and 
confidence :  "^he  heart  of  her  husband  trusteth  in 
iier."  She  is  his  natural  confidante  and  counsellor  ; 
her  advice  is  more  valuable  than  that  of  much  cleverer 
people,  because  it  is  so  absolutely  disinterested ;  the 
hearts  are  in  such  vital  contact  that  the  merely  intellec- 
tual communications  have  a  quality  all  their  own.  One 
may  often  observe  in  an  ideal  marriage,  though  the 
husband  seems  to  be  the  stronger  and  the  more  self- 
reliant,  the  wife  is  really  the  pillar  of  strength  ;  if  death 
•emoves  her,  he  is  forlorn  and  bereft  and  helpless ;  the 
gradual  work  of  the  years  has  led  him  to  depend  on 

;  26 


4C2  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

her  more  and  more,  to  draw  from  her  his  best  inspira- 
tions, and  to  turn  instinctively  to  her  for  advice  and 
direction. 

"^^'She  doeth  him  good,  and  not  evil,  all  the  days  of 
her  life."  ^     It  is  not  only  when  she  comes  as  a  young 
bride  into  his  house,  bright  with  youth,  encircled  with 
the  glamour  of  early  love, — then,  it  is  true,  the  thought 
of  her  nerves  his  endeavours  and  quickens  his  eager 
steps  as  he  turns  homeward  in  the  evening, — it  is  not 
only  while  her  fresh   charms  last,   and  her  womanly 
beauty  acts  as  a  spell  on  him,  while  the  desire  to  retain 
her  love  disciplines  and  strengthens  whatever  is  good 
in  his  character;  but  right  through  to  the  end  of  her 
life,  when  she  has  grown  old,  when  the  golden  hair  is 
grey,  and  the  blooming  cheeks  are  wrinkled,  and  the^ 
upright  form  is  bent, — when  other  people  see  nothing' 
beautiful  about  her  except  the  beauty  of  old  age  and: 
decay,   he   sees    in    her    the    sweet    bride   of    earlier" 
years,  to  him  the  eyes  Appear  unchanged  and  the  voice' 
thrills  him  with  happy  memories;  she  ministers  to  him 
still  and  does  him  good  ;  not  now  with  the  swift  alacrit}.^ 
of  foot  and  the  deft  movement  of  the  hand,  but  with 
the  dear,  loyal  heart,  with  the  love  which  the  years- 
have   mellowed   and    the    trust    which    the    changing 
circumstances  of  life  have  tested  and  confirmed. 

It  is  this  strong,  sweet  core  of  life  in  the  home  which 
gives^e  man  dignity  and  honour  in  public.  _She  is  a 
crown  to  her  husband.^  His  influence  in  the  life  of 
his  town  or  of  his  country  is  not  always  directly  traced 
to  its  true  source.  But  it  is  that  woman's  noble  sway 
over  him,  it  is  the  constant  spur  and  chastening  of  her 

^  Prov.  xxxi.  12.  2  Prov.  xii.  4.  \ 


xxxi.]  A    GOOD   WOMAN.  403 

love,  which  gives  him  the  v^reighty  voice  and  the  grave 
authority  in  the  counsels  of  the  nation.  ^^  Her  husband 
is  known  in  the  gates,  when  he  sitteth  among  the 
elders  of  the  land."  ^  He  can  make  but  a  poor  return 
to  her  for  all  her  quiet  unobtrusive  and  self-sacrificing 
help  year  after  year  and  on  to  the  end,  but  he  can  at 
least  repay  her  with  growing  reverence  and  loyalty ; 
he  can  tell  her,  as  it  were  with  the  impassioned  lips  of 
a  lover,  what  he  owes  to  her  ;  when  her  children  rise 
up  and  call  her  blessed,  he  can  praise  her,  saying, 
-y*^  Many  daughters  have  done  virtuously,  but  thou 
excellest  them  all.""  Indeed  it  will  be  his  growing 
conviction  that  of  all  the  daughters  of  woman  there  is 
none  equal  to  his  wife.  Her  charms  have  grown  upon 
him,  her  character  has  ripened  before  his  eyes,  her 
love  has  become  at  once  stronger  and  more  precious 
every  year.  It  is  no  flattery,  no  idle  compliment  of 
courting-days,  no  soft  word  to  win  the  coy  heart  of  the 
maiden,  but  it  is  his  own  deep  and  sincere  feeling; 
it  is  said  to  her  who  is  his  and  has  been  his  for  years, 
and  in  whose  assured  possession  he  finds  his  greatest 
peace  :  "  I  do  not  question  that  other  women  are 
good  and  true,  but  I  am  sure  that  you  are  better  than 
all."  And  so  she  is.  Every  true  wife  is  the  best 
wife. 

The  next  point  in  the  virtuous  woman  to  which  our 
attention  isydrawn  is  her  unflagging  industry.  Her 
husband  '*  shall  have  no  lack  of  gain."  ^  Hft-a:ddition  to 
all  those  treasTTTes"of  mutual  love  and  spiritual  converse, 
all  those  invaluable  services  of  counsel  and  guidance, 
of  criticism  and  encouragement,  she  is  a  positive  source 

'  Prov.  xxxi.  23.  -'  Prov.  xxxi.  29.  ^  Prov.  xxxi.  ii. 


404  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

of  wealth  to  him*  She  is  the  house-manager.  If  he 
earns  the  bread  in  the  first  instance,  it  is  in  her  hands 
that  it  seems  to  be  miraculously  multiplied.  If  he 
brings  home  the  money  which  is  enough  for  their  wants, 
it  is  she  who  turns  the  silver  into  gold  and  makes  the 
modest  means  appear  great  wealth.  The  fact  is  her 
hands  are  alwa3^s  busy.  The  spindle,  the  distaff,  the 
tesm,  are  within  her  reach  and  are  constantly  plied. 
While  she  unravels  the  knotted  cares  of  her  husband 
in  the  evening  with  her  bright  and  cheery  talk,  while 
she  encourages  him  in  all  his  plans  and  heartens  him 
for  all  his  duties,  her  busy  fingers  are  making  clothes 
for  the  children,  repairing,  adapting,  improving,  or 
else  are  skilfully  constructing  ornaments  and  decora- 
tions for  the  household,  turning  the  poor  room  into  a 
palace,  making  the  walls  beam  with  beauty  and  the 
hearts  of  all  within  laugh  for  joy. 

There  is  something j^uite  magical  and  impressive  in 
wom^ifs  economy:  "She  is  like  the  merchalrFships  ; 
she  bringeth  her  food  from  afar."^  No  one  knows  how 
it  is  done.  The  table  is  well  spread,  the  food  is  daintily 
served,  on  infinitesimal  means.  She  finds  out  by  the 
quick  intuitions  of  love  how  to  get  the  things  which 
the  loved  ones  like,  and  by  many  a  little  sacrifice  un- 
perceived  she  produces  effects  which  startle  them  all. 
She  has  a  secret  of  doing  and  getting  which  no  one 
knows  but  she.  Early  passers-by  have  seen  a  light 
in  the  house  long  before  the  day  dawns ;  she  has 
been  up  preparing  the  breakfast  for  the  household,  and 
mapping  out  the  work  for  all,  so  that  no  hours  may  be 
wasted  and  no  one  in   the  family  may  be  idle.^     Her 

'  Prov.  xxxi.  14.  -  Prov.  xxxi.  15. 


A  'GOOD   WOMAN.  40$ 


boundless  economies  produce  astonishing  results.  One 
morning  she  has  to  announce  to  the  husband  and  the 
children  that  she  has  managed  to  put  together  a  little 
sum  which  will  purchase  the  freehold  of  their  house 
and  garden.'  Her  husband  exclaims,  Why,  how  has 
it  been  done  ?  Where  has  the  money  come  from  out 
of  our  Httle  income  ?  She  smiles  significantly  and  will 
not  tell ;  but  the  tears  moisten  his  eyes  as  he  looks 
into  her  face  and  reads  the  story  of  self-denials,  and 
managings,  and  toils,  which  have  issued  in  this  sur- 
prise. And  the  children  look  up  with  a  sense  of  awe 
and  wonder.  They  feel  that  there  is  something  of 
the  supernatural  about  mother  ;  and  perhaps  they  are 
right. 

She  has  all  the  delicacy  and  even  weakness  of  a 
woman,  but  the  life  of  constant  activity  and  cheerful 
toil  preserves  her  health  and  increases  her  strength. 
Idle  women,  who/ lounge  their  days  away  in  constant 
murmurings  o\^  their  ailments,  speak  contemptuously 
about  her, — "  She  has  the  strength  of  a  horse,"  they 
say,  *'  and  can  bear  anything."  They  do  not  know, 
they  do  not  wish  to  know,  that  she  is  the  author  of 
her  own  strength.  It  is  her  own  indomitable  will,  her 
own  loving  heart,  which  girds  her  loins  with  strength 
and  makes  strong  her  arms.^  There  are  others  who 
carp  at  her  on  different  grounds  ;  they  do  not  under- 
stand how  one  with  her  husband's  income  can  keep  so 
comfortable  a  household  or  dress  her  children  as  she 
does.  Those  cushions  of  tapestry,  that  clothing  of  fine 
linen  and  purple,  are  an  offence  to  her  critics.  *'  How 
she  does  it  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  says  one,  implying 

*  Prov.  xxxi.  16.  -  Pro\.  xxxi.  17. 


4o6  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

that  there  is  something  quite  uncanny  and  disreputable 
about  it.  ^'  She  works  Hke  a  slave,"  says  another,  with 
the  tone  of  scorn  that  one  would  employ  for  a  slave. 
But  that  is  the  truth :  ^'  She  perceiveth  that  her  mer- 
chandise is  profitable :  her  lamp  goeth  not  out  by 
night."  ^  She  is  indeed  indefatigable.  She  actually 
makes  garments  which  she  can  sell,  girdles  for  the 
merchants,-  in  addition  to  looking  well  to  the  ways  of 
her  household.  Certainly  she  does  not  eat  the  bread 
of  idleness.^ 

She  can,  however,  very  easily  bear  the  contemptuous 
criticisms  of  others.  The  practical  results  of  her  life 
are  sufficiently  satisfying  to  make  her  a  little  indepen- 
dent. She  has  secured  herself  and  her  household 
against  the  contingencies  which  harass  other  house- 
wives. The  approach  of  winter  has  no  alarms  for 
her  :  all  the  children  and  servants  are  warmly  and  suffi- 
ciently clad.^  The  uncertain  future  has  no  terrors  for 
her :  she  has  made  ample  provision  for  it,  and  can 
regard  the  unknown  chances  with  a  smile  of  confi- 
dence.^ And  indeed,  whatever  detractors  may  say 
behind  her  back,  it  is  not  easy  for  any  one  to  say  any- 
thing severe  in  her  presence.  For  the  same  loving, 
earnest,  diligent  ways  which  have  made  her  house- 
hold comfortable  and  secure  have  clothed  her  with 
garments  better  than  scarlet  and  linen.  "Strength 
and  dignity  are  her  clothing," — robes  so  gracious  and 
beautiful  that  criticism  is  silenced  in  her  presence, 
while  the  hearts  of  all  good  and  honest  people  are 
drawn  out  to  her. 

'  Prov.  xxxi.  1 8.  *  Prov.  xxxi.  2i. 

'^  Prov  xxxi.  24.  '  Prov.  xxxi.  25. 

^  Prov  xxxi.  27 


A    GOOD   WOMAN.  407 


But  here  is  another  characteristic  of  the  virtuous 
woman.  Economy  and  generosity  go  hand  in  hand. 
Frugal  livers  and  hard  workers  are  always  the  largest 
givers.  This  woman,  whose  toil  late  at  night  and  early 
in  the  morning  has  enriched  and  blessed  her  own,  is 
ready  to  help  those  who  are  less  fortunate.  "  She 
spreadeth  out  her  hand  to  the  poor ;  yea,  she  reacheth 
forth  her  hands  to  the  needy."  ^  Most  women  are 
naturally  pitiful  and  shrink  from  the  sight  of  suffering; 
but  while  idle  and  self-indulgent  women  try  to  avoid 
the  painful  sight,  and  turn  their  flow  of  pity  into 
the  channels  of  vapid  sentimentality,  the  good  woman 
trains  her  sense  of  pity  by  coming  into  contact  with 
those  who  deserve  it,  and  only  seeks  to  avoid  the  sight 
of  suffering  by  trying  everywhere  and  always  to 
relieve  it. 

Among  all  the  noble  and  Christlike  offices  of  woman 
this  is  the  one  which  most  strikingly  connects  her  with 
the  human  life  of  our  Lord.  It  is  her  function  to 
excite  and  to  cherish  the  quality  of  compassion  in  the 
human  heart,  and  by  her  trained  skill  and  intuitive 
tact  to  make  the  ministrations  of  the  community  to  the 
poor  truly  charitable  instead  of  dangerously  demoraliz- 
ing. Man  is  apt  to  relieve  the  poor  by  the  laws  of 
political  economy,  without  emotion  and  by  measure  : 
he  makes  a  Poor  Law  which  produces  the  evil  it  pre- 
tends to  relieve ;  he  degrades  the  lovely  word  Charity 
into  a  badge  of  shame  and  a  wanton  insult  to 
humanity.  It  is  woman  that  "  spreads  out  her  palm 
and  reacheth  forth  her  hand  "  to  the  poor,  bringing  her 
heart  into  the  work,  giving,  not  doles  of  money,  but 

'  Prov.  xxxi.  20. 


4o8  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

the  helpfulness  of  a  sister's  love,  the  tenderness  of  a 
mother's  solicitude,  the  awakening  touch  of  a  daughter's 
care.  And  the  hand  which  is  thus  held  out  to  the 
poor  is  precisely  the  hand  which  has  been  laid  on 
the  distaff  and  the  spindle  ;  not  the  lazy  hand  or  .the 
useless  hand,  but  the  hand  which  is  supple  with  toil, 
dexterous  with  acquired  skill. 

There  are  two  reflections  which  must  have  occurred 
to  us  in  following  this  description  of  the  good  woman. 
Her  portrait  has  risen  before  our  eyes,  and  we  ask.  Is 
she  beautiful  ?  We  have  watched  her  activities,  their 
mode  and  their  result,  and  we  wonder  whether  she  is 
religious.  '^  Favour  is  deceitful  and  beauty  is  vain,  but 
a  woman  that  feareth  the  Lord  she  shall  be  praised."  ^ 
That  this  woman  has  a  beauty  of  her  own  seems  clear, 
and  that  she  fears  the  Lord  is  a  fair  inference  to  make. 
It  is  idle  to  declaim  against  the  charms  of  personal 
beauty ;  we  may  call  it  deceitful  and  vain,  but  it  will 
not  cease  to  be  attractive.  Men  will  not  be  reasoned 
or  ridiculed  out  of  that  instinctive  homage  which  they 
pay  to  a  lovely  face  ;  the  witchery  of  bright  eyes  and 
arch  looks,  the  winsomeness  of  sweet  contours  and 
delicate  hues,  will  last,  we  may  surmise,  as  long  as  the 
sun  and  nioon  endure ;  and  why  should  we  dishonour 
God  by  supposing  that  He  did  not  make  the  beauty 
which  attracts  and  the  attraction  which  the  beauty 
excites  ?  But  it  is  not  impossible  to  open  men's  eyes 
to  the  beauty  of  a  less  transient  and  more  satisfying 
kind  which  lies  in  the  character  and  conduct  of  women. 
If  mothers  accustom  their  sons  to  see  those  sterling 
attractions  which  permanently  secure  the  affection  and 

'  Prov.  xxxi.  30. 


xxxi.]  A    GOOD   WOMAN.  409 

the  devotion  of  a  husband,  the  young  men  will  not  be 
content  with  superficial  beauties  and  vanishing  charms 
in  the  women  whom  they  choose.      "^^ 

And  is  not  the  beauty  of  womari — rsuch  beauty  as 
we  have  been  contemplating — the  result;  of  fearing  the 
Lord?  Is  it  possible,  apart  from  a  living  faith  in  a 
living  God,  to  maintain  that  lovely  wifeliness,  that 
self-sacrificing,  diligent  love,  that  overflow  of  pity 
to  the  poor  and  needy,  which  constitute  grace  and 
loveliness  of  character?  Has  any  one  succeeded  in 
even  depicting  an  imaginary  woman  devoid  of  religion 
and  yet  complete  and  beautiful  ?  We  have  already 
noticed  how  suited  the  woman's  nature  is  to.  receive 
religious  impressions  and  to  communicate  religious  in- 
fluences ;  we  may  now  notice,  in  concluding,  that  this 
very  characteristic  renders  a  woman  without  God  even 
more  imperfect  and  unsatisfying  than  a  man  without 
God.  She  is^jiaturally  incHned  tp  cling  to  a  person^ 
rather  than  to  an  idea,  to  follow  a  person  rather  than 
a  theory.  The  only  Person  to  whom  she  can  cling 
with  absolutely  good  and  hallowing  results  is  God ; 
the  only  Person  whom  she  can  follow  and  minister  to 
without  detriment  to  her  womanhood  and  with  gain  to 
her  spirit  ij_Qirist.  A  godless  woman  makes  a  sore 
shipwreck  of  life,  whether  she  becomes  sensual  and 
depraved,  or  ambitious  and  domineering,  or  bitter  and 
cynical,  or  vain  and  conventional.  In_Jiei^  ruin  there 
is  always  a  power  as  of  a  fallen  angel,  and  she  can 
drag  others  with  her  in  her  fall. 

If  a  man  is  wise  then  in  choosing  for  himself  a  wife, 
the  first  thing  he  will  demand  is  that  she  shall  be  one 
that  fears  the  Lord,  one  who  shall  be  able  to  lead  him 
and  help  him  in  that  which  is  his  truest  life,  and  to 


410  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS. 

maintain  for  him  a  saving  intercourse  with  the  world 
of  spiritual  realities.  He  may  be  assured  that  in  her 
love  to  God  he  has  the  best  guarantee  of  her  love  to 
him,  and  that  if  she  does  not  fear  and  love  God  the 
main  sanction  for  their  wedded  happiness  will  be 
wanting. 

Finally,  where  the  woman  who  has  been  described 
is  actually  found  in  real  life  it  is  for  us  to  recognise 
her  and  to  reward  her.  Let  society  take  note  of  her  : 
''  Give  her  of  the  fruit  of  her  hands,  and  let  her  works 
praise  her  in  the  gates."  The  great  Greek  historian 
said  that  woman's  highest  praise  consisted  in  not  being 
mentioned  at  all.  That  is  not  the  teaching  of  Revela- 
tion. Woman's  best  work  is  often  done  in  silence  and 
without  observation,  but  her  highest  praise  is  Vv^hen 
the  seeds  sown  in  silence  have  grown  into  flowers  of 
loveliness  and  fruit  that  is  sweet  to  the  taste,  and  the 
whole  community  is  forced  to  yield  her  the  honour 
which  is  her  due,  exalting,  with  heartfelt  admiration  and 
with  deep  gratitude  to  God,  the  Wife,  the  Mother,  the 
Ministrant  to  the  Poor. 


INDEX    OF    TEXTS    IN    PROVERBS    QUOTED 
OR    EXPOUNDED. 


VERSES 

PAGES 

VERSES 

PAGES 

VERSES 

PAGES 

32               .              .              .29 

Chapter  I. 

Chapter  IV. 

33         ...     72 

i.-ix. 

•          7 

1-7 

.       52 

34         ...     72 

7 

9;  IS>  etc. 

8,9       . 

.    55 

35         ...    72 

11-14 
13 

26,  27 
.    32 

12 
14 

.        .    64 
.        .     56 

Chapter  VII. 

17 

.    34 

16,  17  . 

26,  63 

1-5        ..        •    93 

19 

.       30,  33 

18 

.       .    63 

4 

.      94 

24-31 

.       35,  36 

19 

.    62 

5;^7 

.        27,  95,  etc. 

25 

•     34 

20-23    . 

.    57 

8 

.        .        .    95 

31 

.       34,  2>1 

24 

.    59 

9 

.        .        .    94 

32 

'       25,  34 

25-27    . 

.    61 

14 
15 

.  124 
.    68 

Ci 

AFTER   II. 

Chapte 

R  V. 

16,  17 

.     68 

10 

.      25 

3-20      . 

.    27 

22 

•    99 

1 2 
16 

.      24 
.      24 

8 
9 

.    66 
.     72 

Chapter  VIII. 

19 

.     34 

10 

.     72 

1-6       .        .        .  107 

21 

.    37 

II 

.     72 

7-9 

.  108 

22 

.      33,  37 

12-14    . 

28,72 

10-16 

.  109 

15-19    . 

.    69 

15-16 

.      4 

Ch 

AFTER    III. 

21 

62,  72 

17 

.  no 

I-IO 

■   :    :% 

22 

.     29 

18 

.  109 

6 

8 
12 
13-15 

23 

.    73 

20 
22 

.  108 
.  no 

.    39 
.     48 

Chapte 

R  VI. 

.    80 

22-31 
26 
29 
30-36    . 

.  112,  etc. 
.  no 
.  Ill 

.  120 

16 
18 

.     50 
.    49 

6-8 
12-15    . 

.    83 
.    84 

27 
28 

.     43 
.    43 

16-19    • 

20-23    • 

.     88 
.     91 

Chapter  IX. 

29 

.     41 

24-35    . 

.     27 

1-3       .        .        123-4 

31 

.     50 

25 

.    68 

4         .        .        .  122 

Zi 

.     41 

26 

72,75 

5        ...  124 

35 

•     51 

27,  28  . 

.     71 

6 

.        .  125 

412 


INDEX  OF  TEXTS. 


VERSES 

PAGES 

VERSES             PACrS 

VERSES             PAGES 

7 

.  125 

25       .      .      .  146 

19       .      .      .  192 

8 

•  348 

26 

.  294 

22     .     .  141,  153 

9 

.  127 

27 

.  152 

24     .     .     .  309 

lO 

9,  127 

28 

.  140 

25     .     .     •  152 

12 

37,  131 

30 

.  152 

17 

.  68 

31 

•  154 

Chapter  XIV. 

Chapte 

R  X. 

Chapter  XII. 

I 
3 
4 

.    •  398 

165,  176,  186 

.  269 

I 

.  306 

I    .   .  163,  181 

2 

i35»  141 

2 

•  155 

5 

•  9h  176 

4 

.  139 

4 

.   4, 402 

6 

.  126 

12 

.  209 

5 

•  177,  198 

7 

•  171,  339 

13 

.  342 

6 

163,  169,  176 

9 

.    .  156 

14 

.  164 

7 

.  i5o>  151 

10 

191,  et  ieq. 

15 

138,  290 

8 

.  42 

II 

.  150 

17 

.  181 

9 

.  139 

12 

.  65,  151 

18 

.  339 

II 

152,  267,  275 

13 

•  191,  195 

19 

•  171 

13 

152,  163,  164 

14 

.  152 

22 

.  142 

14 

.   .  163 

15 

.  177 

23    .III 

,   156,  338 

15 

.  183,256 

16 

.  186 

28 

.  150 

16 

.  163,  166 

17 

.  205 

29 

•  155 

17 

91,  163,  167 

19 

•   0  ^53 

30 

•  150 

18  163 

,  164,  167,  172 

20 

•  138,139 

19 

89,  163,  168 

21 

.  294 

Chapte 

R  XI. 

21 

.  152 

22 

.  152 

22 

.  163,  168 

23 

.  171 

I 

.  215 
.  183 

23 

.  163,339 

24 

.  141,  340 

2 

24 

.  272 

25 

•  91,  176 

3 

•  151 

25 

.  163,  173 

26 

.  152 

4 

.  142 

26 

.  153,  154 

27 

•  15 

5 

.  150 

27 

.  265,  273 

28 

•  332 

6 

149,  150 

29 

.  205 

9 

•  151 

•  152 

169,  176 

Chapter  XIII. 

30 

.  210 

I    .  125,  179,  181 

31 

32 

.  143,291 
.  153 

10 

•  154 

2 

.  164 

33 

.  171.339 

II 

•  154 

3 

.  i5o>  171 

34 

4,  154 

12 
13 

•  177 
.  169 

4 
5 

.   .271 

.  168 

35 

.    .328 

14 
15 

.256 
.   80,  332 

6 
8 

•  152 

.    .  138 

Chapter  XV. 

16 

•  399 

9 

•  151 

I    .   .  172,  203 

^l 

.  297 

10 

179,  183,  184 

2 

.  171 

18 

.  150 

II 

.  141 

3 

.  197 

19 

.  151 

12 

.  193,  194 

4 

172,  203,  210 

20 

•  155 

13   17 

9,  181,  184,  259 

6 

141,  142,  216 

21 

•  151 

16 

.  171 

7 

.  175 

22 

•  398 

17 

.  182 

8 

.  156,  i8i 

24 

146,  298 

18 

.  140,  179 

9 

.  155 

INDEX  OF  TEXTS. 


413 


VERSES            PAGES 

VERSES            PAGES 

VERSES            PAGES 

II      .      .      .198 

30      ...   85 

18      .      .      .  217 

12 

.  126 

32      .      .      .  209 

19 

•  234 

13 

•  195 

33    •    •   4.217 

20 

.  164 

15 

195-  357 

21 

.  164 

16,  17 

.  143 

ClIArTER  XVII. 

22 

4,  399 

18 

.  203 

23 

•  139 

19 

.  264 

I 

•  'J3 

24 

.  229,233 

20 

181,  306 

2 

.  184 

22 

256,  332 

3 

.  198 

Chapter  XIX. 

23 

165,  173 

4 

.  177 

25 

187,  291 

5   143, 29 

1,314,316 

I 

142,  165 

26 

155.  172 

6 

53,  143 

2 

•   0  ""^^ 

27 

•  145 

7 

■  332 

4 

138,  139 

28 

.  151 

,  169,  176 

8 

.  138 

5 

.  91,  167 

29 

.  156 

9 

.  169 

6 

.  138 

30 

.  196 

10 

.  182 

7 

•   3 

,  139,  166 

31 

.  184 

II 

.  259 

8 

.   .  258 

32 

.  181 

12 

204,  343 

9 

•  91 

33,  etc.    4,  1S4,  215 

14 

205,  208 

10 

.  342 

'1 

•  155 

II 

.  205 

Chapter  XVI. 

16 

•  339 

12 

.  328 

17 

.  227 

13 

*  292 

,  306,  398 

I 

.  i7» 

18 

.  80 

14 

4 

1-7 

4,  216 

19 

.  185 

15 

.  265 

2 

.  198 

20 

.  165 

16 

152,  258 

4 

.  201 

21 

306,  339 

17 

146,  291 

5 

151,  187 

22 

194,  195 

18 

.  309 

6 

226,  362 

24 

.  61 

19 

.  206 

7 
8 

•  324 

25 

•  306 

20 

256,  261 

.  142 

26 

153,155 

21 

216,  257 

9 

.  216 

27 

177,205 

22 

165,  198 

II 

•  215 

28 

.  177 

23 

258,  362 

12 

•  327 

24 

.  263 

13 
14 

153,  327 
.  328 

Chapter 

XVIII. 

25 
26 

.  126 
.  306 

15 

.32S 

I    .  20, 

;,  239,  etc. 

27 

.258 

16 

.  142 

2 

.  171 

28 

.  167 

17 

•  'P 

3 

•  154 

29 

258,  342 

18 

.  180 

4 

.  165 

19 

20  4, 17 

9,  iS 

.  180 
3.188,216 

5 
6 

.  155 
.  165 

Chapter  XX. 

21 

•  175 

7 

.  165 

I    ...  279 

22 

•  340 

8 

.  169 

2 

•  329 

23 

•  175 

9 

167,  266 

3 

.  205 

24 

•  173 

II 

.  138 

4 

.  262 

25 

•  151 

12 

180,  189 

5 

.256 

26 

.  265 

13 

.  170 

7 

•  153 

27 

•  154 

14 

•  194 

8 

.  327 

28 

.  169 

15 

.  127   9 

.  198 

29 

•  27  . 

16 

.  138 

10 

.  215 

414 


INDEX  OF  TEXTS. 


VERSES 

PAGES 

VERSES 

PAGES 

VERSES            PAGES 

II 

•  153 

6    ...  256 

12 

•  197 

Chapter  XXII. 

7 

.  177 

13 

.  204 

9 

126,  341 

14 

.  86 

I 

•   •  00  '43 

II,  12  E 

)y   155 

,  197,  299 

15 

142,  176 

2 

143,  288,  292 

15 

26,  151 

16 

.  80 

3 

•   •  35? 

16 

.  151 

17 

.  168 

4 
6 

.  140,  188 

17 

.  314 

18 

.  256,332 

•  303 

18 

•  314 

19 

.  169 

7 
8 

9 
10 

•  139 

19 

•  151 

21 
22 
23 

•  145 
.  210 
.  215 

•  151 

146,  288,  300 
.  126 

20 

21 

22 

•  151 

5.329 

-  •  329 

24 

.  198 

II 

153,  165,  327 

23 

.  330 

26 

.  327 

12 

•  155 
.  283,  398 

23-34 

•  3,5 

27 
28 

.  198 
.  328 

13 

14 

24 
25 

.  154 
.  154 

30 

.  310 

15 
16 

.  304,340 
141,  288,  297 

26 

27 

.  176 

.  352 

17,  etc. 

18 

22 

.   4 
.  165 

.   4, 288 

28 

.  314 

Chapter 

XXI. 

29 
30-34 

82, 270 

I 

4,328 

23 

24 

.  288 
.  204 

34 

.263 

2 

151,  198 

26,  27 

.  80 

3 
4 

*.  188 

29 

.  272 

Chapter  XXV. 
xxv.-xxix.   .    .   C 

5 
6 

7 

.  272 
.  141 
.  150 

Chap 
1-3 

TER  XXIII. 

.  333 

2 

6,7   . 
8 

.  169 

•   5 

.  208 

8 

•  '^\ 

4 

.  145 

9 

.  208 

9 

•   398 

5 

.  140 

.  174 

10 

i5i»  179 

9 

125,  170,  348 

12 

164,  175 

12 

•  155 

10 

.  291 

14 

.  180 

13 
14 

.  299 
.  138 

13-14 

.  291 
.  303-310 

17 
18 

.  244 
.  167 

15 

151.  152 

15 

•  306 

20 

•  174 

17 

.  276 

16 

.  166,306 

21,  22  . 

6,  314 

18 

.  152 

0 

17 

.  151.308 

23 

.  169 

19 

•  398 

17-21 

•  313 

24 

•  398 

20    .  14c 

,  272,  339 

18 

.  151 

26    . 

.  ii^^ 

21 

.  152 

21 

.  140 

28 

DO 
.    206 

23 

•  '^5 

24 

.   .  306 

24 
25 

.  180 
.  266 

26-28 
27 

.  123 

.  398 

Chapter  XXVI. 

26 

.  145 

29-35 

4.  76,  281 

I    ...  340 

^^ 

156 

2 

.  168 

28 
29 

165,  167 

.  187 

Chai 

'TER  XXIV. 

3-12 
10 

341-349 
.  346 

30 

•  259 

I 

.  151 

12 

.  180 

31 

.  259 

5 

.    .     .  256 

13 

.263 

INDEX  OF  TEXTS. 


41S 


VERSES                               TAGES 

VERSES 

PAGES 

VERSES                               PAGES 

14 

.         .263 

I 

•  iSS 

17               .              .              .    310 

15 

.  263 

2 

.  332 

18 

375 

16 

.  263 

3 

.  296 

20 

170 

18 

.   170 

4 

154, 385 

22 

204 

19 

.  170 

6 

.  142 

23 

180 

20 

.   169 

8 

141,297 

25 

335 

21 

166,  204 

9 

156, 385 

26 

335 

22 

.  169 

II 

•  143 

27 

148 

23-28     . 

.  16S 

12 

154, 332 

24 

•   151 

13 

.  362 

26 

•  151 

14 

.  362 

Chapter  XXX. 

ClIArXER 

XXVII. 

15 
16 

.  332 
.  332 

267.  270 

XXX.  generally      6,  386 

2 

:?i^ 

18 
19 

1-4 

390,  392 
.  393 
.  146 
.  146 
.     89 

3 
4 

1 

-.Its 

.  182 

20 
22 
23          .    i65 

.  145 

•  145 

1, 175, 182 

9 
13 

.  232 

26         .      3^ 

5, 183, 348 

22 

25,27 
31 
32,  33 

332,  339 
.  83 
.  329 
.  167 

8 

9 
10 

■     5, 243 
.      .  232 
.  233,244 

27 
28 

.  146,  29S 

.     .  154 

1 1 

.  306 

12 

.      .  352 
.    80 

Chapter 

XXIX. 

13 

I 

.    88 

Chapter  XXXI. 

14 

229,  237 

2         .       t 

;,  154. 332 

xxxi.  generally     6,  397 

15 

•        •  39^ 

3 

.     .  306 

I          ...  397 

16 

.  398 

4 

•  332 

2-8 

•  334 

17 

•        •  Y 

5 

.  168 

3 

•  397 

18 

.  35o»  360 

6 

.  152 

4 

.        .  278 

19 

.  230 

7 

.  300 

5 

.        .  278 

20 

•  350,354 

8 

.  204 

6 

.  278 

21 

.  182 

9 

•  341 

7 

.        .  278 

22 

•  340 

II          .    16 

3,  205,  345 

8 

.  176 

23-27    .        5,  140,  270 

12 

•  333 

9 

.  176 

14 

.        .  328 

10-31 

.  400,  410 

Chapter  XXVIII. 

15 

.  310 

27 

.  273 

xxviiii. 

jener 

ally   .       5 

16 

.  151 

30 

•  302 

GENERAL    INDEX. 


Agassiz,  144. 

Agriculture,  140,  269. 

Agur,  386. 

Anger,  205. 

Ant,  the,  83. 

Atheism,    unknown  to    Israel,    ii, 

18. 
Atonement,  meaning  of,  362,  371. 

Bacon,  16,  230. 
Bible,  its  character,  382. 
Buddha,  his  teaching  quoted,  71. 
Burns,  quoted,  293. 

Carlyle,  305. 

Catholic,  the  Catholic  Church,  246. 

Chastening,  51. 

Christ,  93,  103,  107,  117,  120,  133, 
148,  212,  227,  247,  258,  273, 
318,    326,    330,    335,    348,    360, 

383. 

His  use  of  the  Proverbs,  124, 

126,  127,  128,  130,  159,  314. 
Church,  the,  247. 
Coleridge,  16. 

Commercial  life,  41,  86,  218,  226. 
Competition,  31. 
Confession,  364. 
Conscience,  225,  252,  343. 
Contentment,  356. 
Conversion,  104,  212,  287,  320. 
"  Corners,"  295. 


Covetousness,  30. 
Creation,  the  poem  of,  112. 
Criticism,  181. 

Dandy,  the,  95. 
Darwin,   16. 
Death,  not  terrible,  41. 
Diligence,  139,  262  et  seq. 
Distribution,  economic,  136. 
Donatello,  183. 
Drink,  275  et  seq. 
Drunkard,  the,  76,  277. 

EccLESiASTES,  quoted,  10. 
Ecclesiasticus,  9,    12,  22,  81,   139, 

144,    169,    184,    218,    250,    306, 

400. 
Education,  52  et  seq.,  303  et  seq. 
Equality,  294. 
Evolution,  113. 

Faith,  the  life  of,  356. 

Fanaticism,  287. 

Fitness,  in  speech,  170,  174. 

Flattery,  168. 

Folly,  67,  92,  122,  131,  205. 

Fool,  the,  337  et  seq. 

Forgiveness,  314  ^^  seq. 

God's,  370. 

Francis,  St.,  190. 
Friendship,  227  et  seq. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


417 


Gambling,  32. 

God,  His  existence,  391, 

men  need  Him,  43. 

relation  with  human  life,  47, 

155.  197,  199,217,  236,252,  291, 

353- 
Gregg,  quoted,  73. 

Health,  result  of  wisdom.  39. 
Heathenism,  158,  377. 
Heaven,  59,  162,  274. 
Hell,  59,  73. 
Henry  H.,  106. 
Home,  53. 
Honesty,  224. 
Hudibras,  quoted,  266. 
Humility,  44,  127,  184,  189. 

Idleness,  ruinous,  266. 

Immortality,  378, 

Impurity,  25,  27,  29. 

Indra,  drunk,  279. 

Inspiration  of  the  book  of  Proverbs, 

157. 
Inwardness,  60. 

JAHVEH,  15,  21. 
Jakeh,  6. 

Joy,  193- 
Justification,  161. 

King,  the,  326  et  seq. 
Divine  right  of,  331. 

Land,  the  land  question,  270. 
Lanfranc,  anecdote  of,  205. 
Law,  113. 
Lemuel,  6,  396. 
Liberality,  43,  145. 
Lies,  89,  130,  167,  330. 
Livingstone,  59. 
Lot,  the,  use  of,  217. 


Love,  209,  235,  311. 

Man,  114. 

Marriage,  69,  401. 

Massa,  Gen.  xxv.  14,  6. 

Meekness,  172,  210. 

Milton,  quoted,   59,  69,   in,   133, 

316,  367. 
Misanthrope,  the,  240. 
Misapplication  of  Scripture,  346. 
Morality,  relation  to  science,  116. 
Mother's  influence,  397. 

neglect,  53. 

Murder,  90. 

Nabal,  339. 

National  righteousness,  154. 

Neighbourliness,  244. 

Obedience,  385. 

Parents,  duties  of^  306. 

Paton,  John,  54,  217. 

Paul,  St.,  359. 

Pauperism,  290. 

Plain  speaking,  65,  102. 

Pleasure,  276. 

Poor,  the,  43,  141,  143,  176,  288  ^^ 

seq. 
Positivism,  378. 
Pride,  89,  179  et  seq.,  210. 
Proverbs,  book  of,  its  limitations, 

22,  211,  316,  347. 
Punishment,  87,  309  et  seq. 

Quarrelling,  166. 

Rashness,  170. 
Realism,  66,  92. 
Reason,  341. 
Remorse,  77. 

Repetition  of  Proverbs,  2  {note). 
27 


4i8 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Reproof,  175. 

Revelation,   necessary,    20,    375    ei 

seq.,  393- 
Revenge,  316. 
Robespierre,  377. 
Rubies,  valley  of,  49. 

Science,  depends  on  theology,  113. 

its  limitations,  379,  380. 

Scorner,  the,  .125,  129. 
Servants,  treatment  of,  387. 
Shakespeare,  quoted,  73,   86,  234, 

241. 
Sin,  its  nature,  363,  367. 

its  results,  71,  74,  loi. 

its  seductions,  68. 

Sister,  94. 

Sluggard,  the,  82,  263. 
Socialism,  137,  147,  395. 
Solomon,   not    the   author  of    the 

whole  book,  2,  106. 
Speech,  its  power,  164. 
Suretiship,  80. 
Sweating,  31,  296. 
Sympathy,  196. 


Theism, necessary  to  knowledge,  19. 
Temper,  203,  207. 
Temperance,  280,  286. 
Tennyson,  quoted,  67. 
Truth,  injured  by  drink,  283. 

Wealth,  135  et  seq. 

true,  356. 

Wife,  the,  399  et  seq. 
Will,  freedom  of,  25 1  et  seq. 
Wisdom,  meaning  of,  10. 

person  of,  92,  108,  123. 

rewards  of,  37,  109. 

the  book  of,  9,  10, 

the  book  of,  quoted,  118. 

Woman,  96,  132,  396. 
Work,  its  blessings,  268. 
Worthless  man,  the,  84. 

Youth,  dangers  of,  34. 

ZACCHiEUS,  367. 
Zola,  67. 


t^^ 


^Bm 


DATE  DUE 

„  ,_..J 

^ 

J^^ 

^ijjy/Ok 

i     f 

CAYLORO 

PRINTEOINU.S.A. 

